Tag: Title in Transgression

Pussy on a Plinth // elevating the personal as political through paper-based prints and zines

Hearing about young, womxn-only collectives in Johannesburg is always a moment of excitement and encouragement for me. It speaks to the importance of collaborative work as well as the necessity for womxn to provide creative and emotional support to one another when learning to navigate art spaces in the city. Pussy On A Plinth (POP) is one such collective. The collective includes the artists Yolanda Mtombeni, Boipelo Khunou, Lebogang “Mogul” Mabusela, Allyssa Herman, Cheriese Maharaj, Lara Bekker, Zinhle E. Gule, Penny Muduvhadzi, Nthabeleng Masudubele, Didi Allie and Janine Bezuidenhout.

When asked about where the name for the collective came from, they shared that it emerged out of conversations about an image from a nude shoot that involved two of the members. “In one of these images, one of them was seated on a plinth. That is when we began discussions around what that image could possibly mean.” Wanting to unpack this further, I asked about what kind of ideological weight they are hoping their name will have, particularly when combined with their creative practice.

“The name attempts to disrupt the patriarchal structures both in society and the white cube gallery spaces. Putting a pussy on a plinth speaks of uplifting, bringing attention to, as well as monumentalizing the work of womxn artists. ‘Pussy’ in this instance, is used as a reclamation of power by attempting to normalize the use and essence of the word as a term that is not derogatory or belittling.”

Since the inception of POP their work has manifest in the form of paper-based prints and zines. These are often guided by reflections on their experiences and thoughts as womxn. “Our work is interrogative, illustrative, engaging for the public and thought provoking,” they express.

The most recent display of their work was at the Lephephe print gathering towards the end of 2017, which was hosted and organized by Keleketla Library! in collaboration with the collective Title in Transgression. For this they created an image-focused zine to introduce POP and its members. In addition to this they hosted a zine workshop that zoomed in on the question ‘What is your personal politics?’ Reflecting on this, they shared that “the experience was inspiring and affirming; [it allowed us to] communicate our processes, thoughts as well as our goals with the public and other artists in the space as a collective.

The work of the collective and of each member ties into the ideas shared by the 70s feminist slogan ‘The personal is political’ which was adopted from Carol Hanisch’s essay by the same name. Individually, under this larger umbrella, they each have specific areas of focus, which sometimes overlap. These include patriarchal culture, post-colonial or gendered culture; the gaze, human consumption, black womxnhood and its experiences; mental health and associated topics; as well as the effects of post-colonial, patriarchal and gendered cultures. When listing these themes, it is quite easy to see how their collective has become an extension of their individual thematic foci.

When asked about what they have in the works for 2018, they shared that, “We are working on hosting more zine jams at various spots in Johannesburg where people can engage and contribute to the zine archive that has started building up. There is also a plan to have a womxn takeover at the DGI studio as a type of physical alteration of the male-dominated space. The result of this will be a print show which we have been organizing for a while now. The prints we will be producing will mostly consist of relief prints, ‘relief’ being in the form of printmaking, but also as a literal form of relief for us as womxn, as a collective and as individuals.”

POP hopes to continue to grow as a collective by getting involved in work and art spaces beyond paper-based prints and zines. To keep up with their growth and the possibility of new artistic directions, check them out on Instagram.

14 February 2018
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

7 December 2017
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.

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.

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.

5 December 2016