Tag: south african art

Arte Povera & South African Art: A Walkabout with Thembinkosi Goniwe

The Wits Art Museum (WAM) recently hosted a walkabout on their latest exhibition Arte Povera and South African Art: In Conversation led by Consul General of Italy in Johannesburg, Dr. Emanuela Curnis, and South African curator, Dr. Thembinkosi Goniwe. The exhibition includes two sections, and while I was excited to see the works of Italian artists like Pino Pascali irl, my curiosity focused on Goniwe’s take on the impact of Arte Povera on South African art. As a long-time Arte Povera Stan, I believed it was this perspective that made this show seminal.

From left to right: Ilaria Bernardi, Dr. Emanuela Curnis, Thembinkosi Goniwe

Coined in 1967 by Germano Celant, Arte Povera, is an Italian avant-garde movement. Directly translated as “Poor Art,” Arte Povera challenged historical art’s exaltation of luxurious materials and pristine gallery spaces. The movement opted for non-traditional materials often found in homes or nature, emphasising a love for ordinary objects, lived experience and the human body. Its unfettered use of accessible materials reflected an interest in physicality and explored environmentalism in art, long before it became popular.

Arte Povera 1967 – 1971, is the first exhibition of its kind in Africa. Curated by Ilaria Bernardi, this segment highlights 13 renowned Arte Povera artists, Giovanni Anselmo, Alighiero Boetti, Pier Paolo Calzolari, Luciano Fabro, Jannis Kounellis, Mario Merz, Marisa Merz, Giulio Paolini, Pino Pascali, Giuseppe Penone, Michelangelo Pistoletto, Emilio Prini, and Gilberto Zorio.

“Orchestra di stracci” (1968) by Pistoletto Michelangelo

“Senza titolo (No title)” (1968) by Jannis Kounellis

On the other hand, Thembinkosi Goniwe curated South African Innovations, 1980s – 2020s is something of a response on behalf of the 13 South African artists Jane Alexander, Willem Boshoff, Bongiwe Dhlomo, Kay Hassan, David Thubu Koloane, Moshekwa Langa, Billy Mandindi, Senzeni Marasela, Kagiso Pat Mautloa, Thokozani Mthiyane, Lucas Seage, Usha Seejarim, and Kemang Wa Lehulere.

Walking around the exhibition, one got a strong sense that the two exhibitions were quite disjointed, which is not necessarily a bad thing. After briefly engaging downstairs with the Italian part, Goniwe guided viewers through the upstairs South African exhibition, drawing attention to the significance of the artworks’ construction and thematic elements. As he walked about, he emphasised the artists’ deliberate choices in materials, exploring how these choices both echo local narratives and resonate with global issues.

For instance, Goniwe explained Usha Seejarim’s The Modest Home Builder (2004), which involves collecting bricks and wrapping them in a fabric known as Shweshwe—a process reminiscent of ancient practices, transformed into contemporary art. According to Goniwe, the use of African fabrics and local patterns, such as those associated with Xhosa women and domestic workers, becomes symbolic and intertwined with the broader narrative.

“The Modest Home Builder” (2004)
by Usha Seejarim

As I listened, I noticed an absence of the work of artists like Bronwyn Katz and Lungiswa Gqunta, which I would more readily associate with Arte Povera. I asked Goniwe: “As we can see in this exhibit, there’s a lot more manipulation of materials, transforming them into new intricate forms. This differs slightly from the traditional Arte Povera approach, which is often more reverent towards the material. Can you explain this curatorial choice?”

He responded, “Mimicry implies a lack of originality as if we have no inventive capacity of our own. Instead, I aim to create a parallel discourse, one that reflects the unique evolution of material manipulation in South African history. … This question of historical materiality is so strong in Black theories. … Downstairs, even if you’re talking about how in the 60s there were protests … there’s a kind of a different conversation and an artwork and a process that happens … you see the politics that’s happening and the way in which they imagined it throughout. So that’s why I find it very hard to grapple with inheriting ways of thinking from white people.”

True as his response may be, in this context, it is still quite thrilling for the viewer to discover unquestionable visual parallels between Arte Povera and South African art. For me, Lucas Seage’s Found Object (1981) seemed to most epitomise Arte Povera.

Goniwe lingered here, saying, “… there’s a profound concept in being born and dying in a bed. … Seage, not bound by formal education, challenges conventional artistic materials. This echoes a broader tradition found in societies where people constantly create and curate, whether through changing living spaces or cultivating gardens. The professionalisation of curating seems to overlook the innate creativity present in everyday practices …”

“Found Object” (1981)
by Lucas Seage

“Saxophone on a Wheel” (1983)
by David Koloane

Touching on his muse, Koloane’s Saxophone on a Wheel (1983), Goniwe continued, “What Thupelo does, it allows artists to emerge in the materiality of things. If anything, we’ll come closer to Arte Povera as a movement … However, defining movements is challenging, as artists are often ahead, and historians, curators, and critics lag behind. …

It seems as if we fear to name ourselves. We fear to title ourselves. … But the beautiful thing now is a new generation of scholars, especially African-Black scholars, who are beginning to name what they do. ‘Innovation’ is an open-ended title intentionally chosen to encompass the various trajectories present in the exhibition.”

When I asked Goniwe to speak on the economic challenges faced by artists in Italy during the post-war period, leading to the emergence of Arte Povera, and how this could highlight more potential connections between this historical context and contemporary South African art, he responded: “Let me clarify: I’m not saying that these artists are working under poor conditions. To start with Italy in (the) 1960s is not a poor country. … What I’m emphasising is the conscious choices made.”

“Fire Games” (1985) by Billy Mandindi

Not entirely satisfied with this response, I rephrased my question, linking it this time to so-called “Township Art”. While it lacks aesthetic similarities, Township Art does illustrate my interest in the connection between socio-economic conditions and the production of art.

Goniwe answered, “When we talk about privilege, it’s about those who can afford to experiment … It’s not a performance; it’s an undeniable reality. We need to be mindful of this … To answer your question about why we didn’t explore Township Art, it’s because our interests were tied to museums.

It wasn’t just about money; it was also about time and value. Fiona can elaborate on the constraints and limitations we faced. We don’t make excuses for what we could or couldn’t have done; we focus on what we did. Any other critiques are welcome, and so are extensions of the project. I want to make it clear; I’m not defending against criticism. We are actively revisiting concepts, including Township Art, as part of our ongoing projects …

The failure lies not so much with the artists but with us—art historians, critics, and theorists. Because we don’t read carefully. As I said, if you ask me, Township Art is a movement … There are also other movements like the Funda movement, which focuses on aesthetics and art foundations. Artists working there share certain characteristics that we haven’t explored due to our tendencies to compartmentalise or depend on existing narratives.

So part of revisionist history, it must be critical, salvage and mine and give it a different meaning. With this exhibition, my intention is to open up a dialogue. It’s an opportunity to reflect on South African art over the past 50 years … in a way that has not happened yet.”

Goniwe is spot on. While artists have always worked with whatever materials were available due to financial constraints, this legacy has not been adequately addressed in the local context. This exhibition, which remains on show until the 9th of December, not only highlights the need for further scrutiny of the socio-economic impacts on materiality in South African art but also underscores the necessity of cultural exchange for rich artistic development. That is why, while it has plenty of room to grow, Arte Povera and South African Art: In Conversation is undeniably paramount.

“Untitled (Skin)” (1995) Artist- Moshekwa Langa

“Shredded Evidence” (1997) by Willem Boshoff

“Teacher Don’t Teach Me Nonsense” (2023) by Kemang Wa Lehuleru

15 November 2023
Black Desire & Femme Rage: Goliath and Mohale’s Encounter at Goodman

This past Saturday, the Poetry Readings and Conversation brought together Gabrielle Goliath and Maneo Mohale in an event organised by the Goodman Gallery in Johannesburg. Founded in 1966 during a time of unthinkable violence and segregation, seldom has the institution presented us with such profoundly embodied explorations of Black desire, sensuality, and queerness in art. The happening was thanks in part to a collaboration with the Centre for the Study of Race, Gender & Class at the University of Johannesburg and its Global Blackness Summer School, whose theme this year is: For Wholeness. Black Being Well.

Selecting Maneo Mohale as the function’s facilitator was fitting. Not only did the poet and feminist writer have unstoppable chemistry with the guest of honour, but they were also incredibly qualified to take on such delicate subject matter. Mohale has contributed to various publications and served as a contributing editor at i-D Magazine. Their debut poetry collection, Everything is a Deathly Flower (2019), was shortlisted for the Ingrid Jonker Poetry Prize and long-listed twice for the Sol Plaatje European Union Poetry Anthology Award.

The recipient of the 2019 Standard Bank Young Artist Award, Gabrielle Goliath’s work is featured in numerous public and private collections globally including Constellas Zurich, Tate Modern, and Iziko South African National Gallery. Her new body of work Beloved at Goodman Gallery, features drawings and prints. The exhibition, running from October 28 to November 24, 2023, features representations of radical Femme figures like Gabeba Baderoon, Caster Semenya, Sylvia Wynter, Yoko Ono, Sade, and Winnie Madikizela-Mandela. While primarily recognised for her sound and performance art, the day was all about Goliath’s autographic practice.

Gabrielle Goliath and Maneo Mohale in conversation. Image captured by Thembeka Heidi Sincuba

Mohale began by inviting the audience to take three grounding breaths. They followed by sharing a poem, The Autobiography of Spring by queer Palestinian poet George Abraham, proceeding thereafter to introduce Goliath’s Beloved. Peering out the coffee table in front of the speakers, one could see Toni Morrison’s own Beloved (1970). This setting and sequence of events set a very specific tone for the day. From the get-go, it was clear that Goliath and Mohale were engaging at the intersection of Blackness, well-being, and creativity, with a soft emphasis on themes of sensuality, and queerness.

The way they spoke to each other was gentle and generous. When asked about her practice, Goliath replied, “I want to first speak about this notion of mark-making as a means of being close…” Echoing the mood in the room, Mohale praised this tactile, material, and more physically engaged process. Goliath continued, “… that really refuses the sort of sanctioned genius of the male artist, who works from a removed distance. And I refuse that. The physicality of the way in which I work and work on the floor. I work really close to these drawings. I relinquish the control of the hand. It’s not about the precious fidelity of the mark … it’s about relinquishing to the miraculous, what comes of that moment.”

Of course, it would be difficult to speak of love and intimacy without mentioning their antitheses. Goliath characterised her past work Elegy (2015), as a lament-driven work that addresses fatal acts of violence against women while avoiding the perpetuation of trauma. She said, “I did not want to return to the scene of subjection, I did not want to repeat the violence.”

At the nexus of art and violence, Mohale skillfully identified space for Femme rage, saying “ … in the wake of so much violence enacted upon my own body, it was really important for me to think it and hook it up to Empire … Not just these giant spectacular eruptions of violence, but legacies of violence.” Drawing inspiration from Glen Coulthard’s concept of “righteous rage,” Mohale invited us to view rage as a tool for Black Femme resistance.

Mohale prompted Goliath to reflect on the implications of portraying Winnie Madikizela-Mandela in this show. For a while, the pair lingered there and we saw something of a rupture in the way the two saw rage, with Mohale remarking, “I enjoy how my understanding of rage differs from you.” Goliath went on, “ … for me, what is really interesting with Madikizela-Mandela’s portrait specifically, is I find it very vulnerable. … it’s magisterial, but there’s a resignation … when I look at her.”

One of the seemingly many roots of the strong intellectual chemistry between Goliath and Mohale was the impact of Christina Sharpe on both of their work. Goliath’s encounter with Sharpe’s Monstrous Intimacies (2010) brought her towards an understanding of violence as both spectacular and insidious. Goliath insists: “We may need to bear our rage, and allow it to be transformed into the possibility of something else.”

In an audience-pleasing turn, Mohale asked Goliath about her portrayal of artist Desire Marea. As Mohale notes, “Desire being an initiated Sangoma is also not a footnote. … so much of their spiritual power is ancestral, is linked to bloodlines. … I think the sense of the sublime is also something that I chase in my own work, but … I’m seeing the clear instances and connections that are happening now between … contemporary queer artists.”

The intimate intellectual interaction between Goliath and Mohale prompts a collective reconsideration of the role of rage in desire and queerness in African artistic practices. It also did the long and thankless work of taking up space in an almost impervious institution. As we looked around the room and saw reflections of ourselves, both in the flesh and on the walls, we allowed ourselves to yearn for, perhaps even celebrate the dynamic and precarious possibilities within Black queer existence. Even amid this briefly beautiful moment of perceived reprieve, we were reminded of the violence that surrounds us as Mohale closed the discussion with a steady citation of Gabeba Baderoon’s War Triptych (2004).

13 November 2023
Temporal Layers: A Conversation with Swiss-Austrian Artist Stefanie Koemeda

On opening night, I had the pleasure of engaging in a conversation with Stefanie Koemeda, one of Nirox Foundation’s latest artists in residence who was being showcased in the group show Layers: Rock Art Across Space and Time at the Wits Origins Centre. We had our talk just outside the Centre, right before the curator Sven Christian‘s opening address.

Thembeka Heidi Sincuba: Could you tell me about your experience at Nirox and what drew you there in the first place?

Stefanie Koemeda: Yes, sure. I am Swiss and Austrian, and Switzerland has a funding agency with global connections and one of the connecting offices is in Johannesburg. I’ve been checking residencies around this area for a long time because I travelled to Southern Africa seven years ago and fell in love immediately with the region. … When I discovered Nirox, I thought that was … an extremely interesting place for me because of the cradle of humankind, and my interest in archaeology, deep time, and geology. I saw the pictures, and it was a no-brainer. … It’s heaven.

THS: What specifically made it heaven for you?

SK: Apart from the nice park they have, you can also just walk around … For me, as a European living in a city where everything is dead, it was heavenly. From a practical side, you get the freedom to do whatever you want. You don’t have to make an exhibition in the end or stick precisely to what you wrote in your application. That was one of the best things for me, being able to react to the place instead of just bringing my practice and executing it.

I also met people who took care of me, especially Sven Christian. He connected me to interesting people who shared artistic interests. I felt well taken care of. I was sharing the residency with Io Makandal, and I think we’re a good match.

THS: You said you had an idea when you had a proposal, but you were free to do whatever you wanted when you got there. How did your concept change and what made it change?

SK: The proposal was to create imprints of forms I found, not structures, using clay. I would make negative imprints of what I found and then assemble them into sculptures. … I did follow this plan for my final show, but I didn’t focus as much on the imprints. I worked with more free-form shapes, creating reliefs that were heavily influenced by what I observed and discussed with people. We went on many excursions, we visited five different mines in the West Rand because of my interest in soil and geology. This trip to the mine also informed my final sculpture.

THS: The terms ‘sustainability’ and ‘equality’ are used to describe the aims of your work. Did the mines you visited play a role in your exploration of these themes?

SK: Yeah, so, maybe first, the sustainability aspect for me is that our infrastructures, including mines, interfere with the planet’s top layer. We find ancient artefacts while creating modern ones. … Toxicity in Johannesburg’s dust is already measurable and will persist for millions of years, altering soil composition in the geological record. … I examine what we find and what we unconsciously leave behind, such as mines.

The equality aspect interests me in who shapes the future record. It’s typically wealthy states and corporations, possibly transitioning from nation to corporate power. It’s a small group dictating our legacy. Like, poor people, women, they don’t leave that much behind, you know, they don’t get the chance to have an imprint.

THS: What do you think people could misunderstand about your work?

SK: I think maybe, especially with the show that is up at Nirox now … I’m not romanticising Stone Age artefacts at all. For example, there is this cave in Spain where they have hand imprints. And it’s the most famous one, but you get them everywhere. You get them here as well. And they found out now that 80 or 90 per cent of all those hand imprints are from women, women’s hands. And I think there is a tendency to think …it must have been a nice ritual of celebrating women or whatever. But it could be something super cruel. It could be something scary.

THS: I read a quote on time by Timothy Morton in your portfolio and it occurred to me that time is so political. For example, African Time is more cyclical rather than linear … I’m curious about whether you engaged with these ideas while you were exploring local artefacts.

SK: The problem is that the winners are the ones who create the history. …we are now living in a world where scientists and science, I mean, natural sciences as they were born 500 years ago, dominate everything. There is no perception of reality that is outside of that. … I did study biology before I was an artist and that transition for me was difficult. The realisation that that is not the only alternative that exists was the most liberating thing for me. I think maybe that speaks to your time perspective … how cultures that are somewhere else think of time.

… honestly, that was a very challenging thing for me because I am not as educated about … the frictions that are here as I would want to be. I mean, I think I have learned a lot over the last … three months and I’m extremely grateful for that. But … (there are) so many different conversations here that … it feels a bit like being illiterate, but I’m also happy … that I challenge myself and realise that I have massive blind spots and that I am not informed about many things.

THS: Land is also incredibly political in South Africa and as equality is listed as one of the objectives of your work, how did the context affect your practice?

SK: … the political aspect … is not a big part of my work and the most interesting thing for me was that when I’m practising at home, that doesn’t matter, but here it is a much bigger decision not to care about, or not … I do care, but (not) to include it into your work. … I had very interesting discussions about that with Io because she’s also working with the soil and the earth as a white person here. … when I had those conversations with her, I realised that that is an aspect that is completely new for me here. That Earth is very political and rightly so.

Stefanie Koemeda‘s show, In My Brutish Breast, opened at 2 p.m. on the 30th of September in NIROX’s Cool Room and remained on display until the end of October. The exhibition presented a collection of creations crafted during the artist’s residency, spanning from ceramic-based relief compositions to ink drawings and watercolour pieces. Now travelling with the Layers exhibition under the careful stewardship of Sven Christian, her objects can currently be seen at the Wits Origin Centre.

This story is produced in the context of an editorial residency supported by Pro Helvetia Johannesburg, the Swiss Arts Council.

7 November 2023
Khaya Witbooi // A Floral Kingdom of Historic Imperialism

Soil of the land pours fourth from a concrete fissure. Protea graves lie on an earthy deathbed. The indigenous plants strewn across the floor. Blood-red seeps from a glinting gold surface. A legacy of Eurocentricity. Wilting in the sun. “The garden itself as a place of symbolic and material production, where sublime beauty still emerges as a surplus value of the dirty hands of others labor.”

History Begins with a Garden is captured within the surrounding greenhouse-glass walls of Gallery MOMO. Artist Khaya Witbooi collaborated with Italian born, Barcelona based curator Mariella Franzoni to put the show together. In his work Khaya digs up the roots of a colonial history. In exploring the, “genealogy of gardens and gardening in South Africa, bringing to light its relation with slavery, land dispossession and nationalist propaganda.”. Gardens appear at the intersection of both beauty and violence.

Made in SA (Anna de Kooning)

“The rhetoric of aesthetic and civilization was at the origin of the colonial and apartheid enterprises that built the Company’s Garden and, later, Kirstenbosch in Cape Town as symbols of power.”. The systematic trafficking of plants mirrors the enslaved movements of human migration during colonisation. Rich and vibrant in colour, Khaya’s complex images juxtapose a history of iconography grown from the garden of colonial South Africa with contemporary popular culture.

Queen Elizabeth II, Jan van Riebeeck and Cecil John Rhodes are used to access the historical narrative of South Africa. Problematising their prevalence. Their positions of power are subverted through the use of CCTV cameras, the moon landing and Tweety Birds. South Africa’s historic mining practices are referenced through featuring the yellow Looney Tunes character – canaries were carried down to the depths of the earth in mine shafts to test for fatal levels of carbon monoxide or methane. In his pieces, a matrix of meaning are articulated through subtleties – a visual critique of the colonial seed.

“For a colonized people the most essential value, because the most concrete, is first and foremost the land: the land which will bring them bread and, above all, dignity.”

― Frantz Fanon

Hortus Conclusus

The Plant is a Flag

30 March 2017
‘These Aesthetics Are Not New’ – exhibition by artist Callan Grecia

Young artist Callan Grecia, having recently graduated with his Masters in Painting at UCKAR, is exploring the relationship network conditions in a Post-Internet society have on the medium of oil paint. I interviewed him about his show titled These Aesthetics Are Not New (2017).

Tell our readers about the title you chose for your exhibition, ‘These Aesthetics Are Not New’.

The title for the show came from the idea that everything comes from something. There is nothing new in an age of instantaneous access where we are constantly exposed and re-exposed to images like never before. If you look at fashion, music and art, things are cyclical and the Internet is a catalyst for this effect to occur faster and faster. I guess I was also tired of hearing and seeing the same shit over and over, heralded as ‘new’ and ‘fresh’ until you do some digging and see that you can’t really escape the languages of visual literacy that have been engrained in us consciously and subconsciously.

Tell our readers what the exhibition was about.

I’ll be honest I can’t really pinpoint things in that way because this exhibition seems to be the first step in a larger, longer process of exploration and learning, but I can say that the work deals with ideas of wish fulfillment, brought about by the instantaneous access of the Internet. The image object is also a concept I’ve been exploring, basically the image as object and the object as image and the convergence of the two (digital media and physical painted works). The work becomes a vehicle for network conditions in that it takes from this space, replicates digital aesthetics in a physical space and is then able to either be reintroduced into the digital space, or not depending on how and where the slippages between the two occur.

What are some of the Post-internet conditions/cultural aspects that you have focused on for your exhibition? Tell our readers about your decision to use paintings, t-shirts, installed elements and an immersive sound piece in your exhibition.

Curatorial considerations to include these elements were based on the feedback loop of the Internet, and the t-shirts with prints of the paintings on the walls on them, coupled with installed vinyl that spoke to internet slang, blaring rap music and cellphone notifications created this immersive, layered space that replicated the speed and frantic nature of the world within the screen.

Tell our readers about your decision to live stream your exhibition on Instagram.

The instagram live stream was essentially the last layer, which became the re-induction of the work into a digital space. It also provided instantaneous access to the paintings but with a heavy digital grain that changed the way the works would be read IRL. It was a conscious decision that paid off conceptually and also had the advantage of allowing people who could not make the opening night a chance to see the show from their own spaces.

What were some of the responses to your work at the gallery vs on Instagram?

The abstraction came into its own for the viewers who got to see them in the flesh and the figurative work was what got the most attention on instagram. The grain of the digital tends to have a flattening effect and the devices these images are viewed on lend themselves to figuration. You can’t really pick up on the intricacies of the abstract works on instagram, or feel their size, presence and depth, whereas you can easily recognize and appreciate figuration, I believe, on a mobile platform.

Check out Callan’s online catalogue to see more of his work or follow him on Instagram to some of his work’s in progress.

29 March 2017
“Hipnotic” Art – An Interview with illustrator Lungile Mbokane

I interviewed illustrator Lungile Mbokane about where his artistic journey began and his experiences at the Design Indaba this year.

Tell our readers a bit about you and your journey as an illustrator?

My journey as an illustrator began in 2011 when I signed up for graphic design as a career that I wanted to pursue. It has been a journey filled with challenges, good and bad, but worth going through because they have resulted in who I have become as an illustrator. My first entrance to the field was in 2013 when I was designing a poster for a movie titled “Hear Me Move”. I made it all the way to the top 4 of the competition.

How do you like to describe your work?

My work is a series of thoughts, events and activities that I happen to experience in my daily life. I try to capture everything around me to feed my source of inspiration. I have always pursued abstract forms of illustrations. I try to translate the world from my point of view. Abstract concepts and forms tend to be best describe my work because when something is abstract it holds more than a single meaning.

Do you have particular themes that you enjoy working through?

Yes I do. Authentic art is the theme I enjoy working with. This means I can explore various concepts but with intentions of producing proudly African inspired art that has the ability to create and blend work that can be internationally recognized. My themes can range from music, culture, and many ideas that I collect daily that I can explore as an artist.

Tell our readers about “Hipnotic” / “Hipnotic Art Movement”.

Hipnotic Art Movement came about when I had a feeling about using my art as a tool that heals me. The name comes from Hypnosis which is similar to how I perceive my art. It is a drug (medicine) that is prescribed by the doctor (artist). I added a hip feel to the name by spelling it out “Hipnotic” rather than “Hypnotic”. The first three letters ‘H-i-p’ define my work as relevant and current.

Tell our readers about your experience at the Design Indaba this year.

My experience at the Design Indaba Festival was something that helped me to grow as an artist. Being part of something that surrounds you with other types of artists had an impact on how I now view myself and my work. The platform helps you reach and meet a lot of young, inspiring creatives who have the ability to influence and change the world through their work. I was able to see the results of simple ideas made into something effective and the power of creativity on one stage. The series of events that took place during the festival became something that I can treasure for a lifetime. I’d say it’s something that can help you move to the next level in your career.

Tell our readers about some of the awards you have received and projects you have been involved in.

Last year I was part of the Thami Mnyele Fine Arts Awards and received an award for being identified as one of the top 100 exhibiting artists. I have been part of Conte Magazine, an amazing magazine that puts creatives together. I was featured in their second issue, Africa, and their third issue, Revolution. I will feature in their up coming issues titled The Raw and 20 Something, which are going to be released in April and May respectively. I was also part of the annually held SA Taxi Foundation Art Awards and was a top 30 finalist. I am currently part of Design Indaba’s emerging creatives class of 2017. I am also currently part of Fiercepop which is an online exhibition that has amazing artists and exhibits their work in places such as Amsterdam, New York, London, Cape Town and Johannesburg.

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

At the moment I am working on expanding myself as an independent artist as well as the distribution and availability of my work to the public. What people can expect this year from Hipnotic as an artist is more work to being dished out. I have been compiling my work for years and I am slowly getting it out for people to receive. People are looking at a recent Bachelor of Arts in Graphic Design graduate who is ready to put his qualification to good use.

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

My work is forever evolving and changes just as much as the world turns. I aim to explore as much as I can with various concepts and ideas because I feel that all artists need to keep up with the times. Texture, loose ink brushstrokes and collage play a huge role into how I fuse digital art and traditional art.

To check out more of Lungile’s work follow him on Facebook and Instagram or check out his Behance.

24 March 2017
Sikelela Damane’s exhibition State Of The Nation Address (SONA) – “Speaking the truth should not be substituted for being radical”

As the high priestess of soul, Nina Simone said, “You can’t help it. An artist’s duty as far I’m concerned, is to reflect the times.” This is exactly what artist, Sikelela Damane achieved in his current exhibition titled, State Of the Nation Address (SONA).

From the historical removal of the Cecil John Rhodes statute at the University of Cape Town to the dodging of rubber bullets while peacefully marching in the streets of Johannesburg, Sikelela was initially inspired by the South African student Fallist movements and how they have “commercialised being ‘woke’ and addressed complex patriarchal and racial constructs.”.

Sikelela deliberately represented the students asking for free decolonized education as “heroes of our generation” instead of being in a state of melancholy since they are a group that is both marginalised and frightened.

Moreover, it is the chunk of land that Sikelela layered on the floor of the Kalashnikovv gallery that speaks to the state of a nation that is frightened about its mission to address the struggles of the marginalised.

Land is a deeply contested issue in South Africa and Sikelela’s idea to address this issue in his work began when President Jacob Zuma stated that the main objective of his government would be to re-address the land. Even though, Sikelela suspects the President’s main objective is to end his term with the affection of Black South African’s, Sikelela seized the opportunity to metaphorically engage with relationship between land and Black labour.

It was in the process of excavating land from outside the gallery and moving it inside that was emotional for Sikelela. “I felt laboured, hard laboured in particular and reminded of Black Labour and how Black males and females in this country became cheap exploits to nourish and pamper this land.” In addition, the accidental displacement and replacement of Sikelela’s land installation helped him further speak to the illusionary ownership of South African soil.

“I like to think of myself as not of a radical but an artist who simply paints the truth. What is a radical, and to whom? Speaking the truth should not be substituted for being radical. And it’s assumed that radical equals being a fighter, an anarchist. I say I paint out of love and hope”, said Sikelela.

In his exhibition currently on at the Kalashnikovv gallery, Sikelela does more than paint. He sues acrylic, aerosol, markers and earth on canvases. He also uses objects such as land and a tyre to address the state of the nation.

Check it out the art walkabout this Saturday or see his artwork on Instagram.

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

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

How do you describe your work and your creative process?

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

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

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

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

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

Workwear factory shopfloor, Thetsane industrial area, Maseru

Tell our readers about your exhibition ‘The Island’?

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

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

Textile factory rest area, Thetsane industrial area, Maseru

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

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

Why the focus on Lesotho?

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

The Island will be on show until 7 April.

Ministry of Social Development storeroom, central business district, Maseru

17 March 2017
Where Art Thou – letting art be your guide

In a Bangkok gallery filled with sinister wooden carvings of warped body parts, punctuated with black grains of rice, Terhys Persad found out about the struggles the Thai farmers. No guidebook had included this information and even the tour guides did not briefly mention the tragic commercialisation of rice farming. Instead it was in galleries and the contemporary art that Terhys feasted on that she was able to learn about the stories of the people of each foreign land she visited.

The knowledge she gained from that Bangkok gallery and many other galleries she visited while fulfilling her dream of travelling the world inspired her to create a web series, Where Art Thou, that answers the questions about a country through art.

After a year and a half of travelling, Terhys returned to her home in America and registered herself for film classes. Here she learned how to create, direct and produce a show. Next stop, South Africa to shoot the first season of the series.

However, this was not the typical Western travel show that focuses on the South African wine route or Nelson Mandela. Terhys’ goal was to “introduce outsiders to a part of a country’s culture that doesn’t feed into Western stereotypes.”

So even in the South African art scene, Terhys focused on artists that “do not get much attention in traditional art spaces”. She specifically sought out “women and gender non-conforming people, people of colour and queer people”. Even all of the crew that Terhys hired were South African people of colour and most of them were women.

The six episode season features artists that manifest the theme of that episode in their work.

Episode one is about conflict and coexistence and features internationally known contemporary artist and practicing traditional healer, Buhlebezwe Siwani.

Episode two’s theme is defiance and the artists in this episode, Rendani Nemakhavhani and Kgomotso Neto Tleane, “rebrand Black hood life with a camera and a soap opera” through cinematic photography series, The Honey.

Under the theme commitment, episode three features Molotov Cocktails the resistance mechanisms of an artist and her family’s activism that has continued for generations.

Artists Rory Emmet and Thania Petersen feature in episode four, which explores the “rediscovering identity and royal heritage after hundreds of years of erasure” under the theme pride.

Episode five’s theme is ownership and discusses the many ways that land has been and continues to be a contentious issue in South Africa.

Lastly, episode six features “F**k White People” artist, Dean Hutton and the idea of “dismantling white supremacy” under the theme bravery.

Through the interviews of artists whose work introduces specific parts of South African culture, society or history, Terhys captures authentic South African stories and “dope shit that doesn’t repeat the well worn narratives of the nation”.

Terhys is currently fundraising and developing season two of Where Art Thou, which will be in Mexico. But for now, the first episode of season one will be released later this month and every month after an episode will be released.

Stay tuned to the Where Art Thou YouTube channel and check out Where Art Thou’s Facebook page, Twitter and Instagram for behind the scenes videos, travel tip.

15 March 2017
Artist Lisolomzi Pikoli on the human figure and connections to nature

Visual artist and muralist Lisolomzi Pikoli aka Mr Fuzzy Slippers will be conducting a walkabout on his work titled Man Like Mountain: Of Memory and Scar at Keleketla! Library on Friday the 24th of February.

His work generally focuses on the human figure and its relation to line, shape and form. This is coupled with themes around outer body experiences, past experiences, thoughts, dreams and the magical are used as channels to express what he experiences internally. He speaks from the position of a second generation urbanized South African and draws on history that he explains as being genetically embedded within us and alive in different ways.

The Reeds

Man Like Mountain: Of Memory and Scar is a project that he has been working on over the past two and a half years, and has culminated into an exhibition and publication.

Lisolomzi uses the mountain as a visual metaphor to think about the human life cycle. In the same way that the mountain gets formed through force and collision, and is shaped by the elements, so too does the human life cycle get formed through struggle and different influences in the world, sometimes leaving scars. “But they [the scars] remind you of something. That you still stand and you are still here,” Lisolomzi expresses.

The publication itself has four different paragraphs, which serve as four seasons. Each section has its own tale and its own tone which will be expanded on during the walkabout on Friday. The walkabout will showcase all the original works included in the publication.

23 February 2017
Artist Jody Paulsen’s solo exhibition ‘Pushing Thirty’

Artist Jody Paulsen is currently showing his new solo exhibition Pushing Thirty at SMAC Gallery in Cape Town.

Everything from the fuzzy texture of his felt collages, to his floor installations are a point of entry into a mix of bright colours and cheeky slogans; curious eyes are invited to look a little closer. Felt as a playful medium, creates a sense of nostalgia with the fabric associated with arts and crafts during childhood. Jody puts a twist on this association by dealing with adult themes in his work. His work offers a critical eye on identity construction and queer politics, as well as on consumer culture, often addressing more than one of these themes in an artwork. Jody provides commentary on the discriminatory laws against LGBT communities in countries such as Uganda, and offers pieces in celebration of sexual diversity. The layering of images in his collage work leaves no empty space. However, his work is crowded in a way that does not leave one feeling claustrophobic. Instead your eye is darting across the surface of the work, trying to take it all in. His use of fonts which mimic graffiti and branding typography, as well as other popular culture iconography draw attention to consumer culture, with slogans that highlight the realness of approaching adulthood. His exhibition also includes a series of photographs where he presents himself as the subject.

His show continues at SMAC Gallery until the 25th of March.

17 February 2017
Visual artist Ke Neil We: combining art and biology

Visual artists Ke Neil We creates mesmerizing artworks by exploring the similarities between organic and inorganic microscopic patterns.

Ke Neil We draws inspiration for her work from nature, specifically the relationship between order and chaos. “I find the chaotic nature of existence to be very profound,” she expresses, “Order and chaos will always prevail.”. She looks at the way in which order and chaos presents themselves visually in patterns that form in organic and inorganic matter. This fascination with the relationship between the organic and inorganic stems from looking at the structural similarities between the two when examined under a microscope. She explores “the way that things grow and the way they look in the body, in plants, in everything that exists.”. Her work resembles studies of the structures of nerves cells in the brain, plants seen under a microscope, as well as what she describes as “geometric patterns of order and chaos”.

‘Chaotic Stem’. 2015. Pen on paper.

She was recently part of the group exhibition Untitled 3.99 where she put up a series of 3 works titled ‘Order’. These abstract pieces portray the waves and structures of water using lines. “In my work I use dots and lines as my basic mark-making [techniques]. I try to keep it to the simplest building blocks of form. So start with a dot and then the trail of that dot becomes a line,” Ke Neil We explains. This mirrors her exploration of the building blocks of life.

‘Untitled’. 2014. Pen on paper.

Ke Neil We’s recent body of work is about creating a self-portrait from samples of bacteria and fungus found on different parts of her body. “[I am] trying to see the parts of myself that I otherwise would not see,” Ke Neil We explains, “I am fascinated by microbes because they are an intrinsic part of life and they go unseen.”. From these swabs she has been experimenting with growing the bacteria in Petri dishes, with each forming part of her self-portrait. “The whole idea is that bacteria is organic, so it lives. So over time the work also changes as the bacteria grows, thrives and eventually dies”. This is the direction Ke Neil We is going with her work; the direction of sci-art, combining art and biology.

To keep up with her work check her out on Instagram

Bacteria from belly button grown in nutrient agar

9 February 2017