Tag: visual artist

  • Janiva Ellis’ visceral paintings comfort as well as unsettle

    Janiva Ellis’ visceral paintings comfort as well as unsettle

    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.

  • Gowun Lee // exploring social issues with a conceptual lens

    Gowun Lee // exploring social issues with a conceptual lens

    Describing herself as a visual artist who uses photography as her chosen medium, Gowun Lee explores social issues in a conceptual manner. She received her BFA in Photography from the School of Visual Arts, and her work has been included in exhibitions around the world, the most recent being the 2018 Aperture Summer Open titled The Way We Live Now in New York.

    Lee has moved from New York to South Korea for her ongoing project which brings light to the fact that the majority of LGBTQ people in South Korea have to hide their true identities, despite the increase in LGBTQ activism and awareness. This is represented visually in her series I’m Here With You, where the people photographed never face the camera directly. Instead their bodies are turned and their faces are hidden. “The LGBTQ individuals photographed – all facing away from the camera – remind us of how Korean society continues to neglect and refuse to accept them. “By creating these images, my intent is to both implicate the viewer in the nation’s larger refusal to acknowledge the identity of LGBTQ individuals and, more importantly, to spur us all to take action and change this attitude once and for all,” Lee says in an interview with the UK’s Daily Mail. This series is a powerful portrayal of lived experiences, and the way in which this affects people’s lives, with those photographed often alone within the frame. A creepy stillness becomes apparent with Lee’s compositional choices.

    To check out more of work visit Lee’s website.

  • Delphine Diallo’s ‘Women of New York’ – empowering women

    Delphine Diallo’s ‘Women of New York’ – empowering women

    Delphine Diallo, currently based in Brooklyn, New York, is a French Senegalese photographer and visual artist. Completing her studies at the Académie Charpentier School of Visual Art in Paris she worked in the music industry as a graphic designer, special effect motion artist and video editor before moving to New York to explore her own practice.

    Combining her artistry with activism Delphine momentums various possibilities for the empowerment of women, cultural minorities and youth forward. The mediums in which she practices include both analogue and digital photography, illustration and collage, virtual reality and 3D printing.

    Her arresting imagery acts to challenge societal norms and champion women with mythological, anthropological, sexuality, identity and race explorations.

    Delphine’s project Women of New York makes use of classic portraiture to create visibility. For this project, she photographed women and girls of New York which was compiled into a book format and featured 111 females (a symbol of oneness).

    For this project, the artist used the method of blind casting via Instagram posts and having her assistant handle the model calls in order to rule out discrimination and limiting women and girls who want to participate from forming a part of the project.

    “I feel like if I select women, then I’m discriminating against other women who want to participate. I’m not going to do that. So, my assistant handles the model calls I post on Instagram, and 30 women might reply, and because they’ve expressed interest, they are part of this project.

    I want to give each woman who has felt defeated, unprotected, ignored or degraded, a new light to shine on her brilliance and beauty. And, for the women who have always felt empowered, despite society dismissing her in the workplace, educational institutions, media outlets, and even in her home, I want Women of New York to illuminate her strength in ways she may never have imagined.” she expressed in an interview with 99u.

    Delphine’s images are strong and show these women and girls in a confident, powerful light. Her project has created visibility and a face that speaks to what it means to be a female in New York today. Her work holds power in that it celebrates beauty and is a clear indication that womanhood cannot be seen as an embodiment of one way of being.

  • Visual artist and storyteller Saaiqa unpacks the mind as a theatre in her series ‘The Fourth Wall’

    Visual artist and storyteller Saaiqa unpacks the mind as a theatre in her series ‘The Fourth Wall’

    “The day of birth for every human being is the start of a lifelong battle to adapt himself to an ever-changing environment. He is usually victorious and adjusts himself without pain. However, in one case out of 20 he does not adjust himself. In U.S. hospitals, behind walls like [those] shown here, are currently 500 000 men, women and children whose minds have broken in the conflict of life.”

    (Excerpt from LIFE Magazine’s 1939 article and photo essay, “Strangers to Reason: LIFE Inside a Psychiatric Hospital. The beginning of Saaiqa’s artist statement)

     

    Saaiqa is a Durban-based visual artist, writer and storyteller expressing herself through film, photography, installation and mixed media works. Plunged into the world of artistic evocation from childhood, her creativity was fuelled by a desire to understand, learn and observe from the world.

    From a young age, Saaiqa was involved in theatre and the dramatic arts which she took part in until the end of her high school career.

    “It’s interesting in retrospect, acting and learning how to inhabit another character from such a young age; I think you start to get a handle on how human psychology, experience and conditioning is translated and manifested in how we as individuals exist in the world.”

    Saaiqa’s fascination with the mind stems from a deep-seated interest in mental health. “I believe we all suffer from some form of neurosis; it’s just an inevitability. Even if you are not mentally ill we all have been marked by life in some way.”

    She continues to open up by saying that members of her immediate family are afflicted by mental illnesses such as schizophrenia. Her first-hand experience with this has shown her how difficult it is not only for the person afflicted by the illness but for the person’s loved ones to navigate the world living with this illness. She expresses that it is difficult to help someone in this position within a system that is broken and not very forgiving or understanding when it comes to mental health issues.

    ‘Neurosis’ – Rorschach

    In unpacking her series Saaiqa explains that The Fourth Wall acts as a study of the psychological arena of the modern day human being. Through observation she has concluded that we are cognizant beings continuously attuning ourselves to an environment that is characterized by rapid change, causing both feelings of joy and of pain. Her aim with this body of work is to investigate this negation with life. This is achieved by witnessing the human condition as well as states of existentialism.

    “I was motivated to explore a project like this because there is still a great amount of stigma, discrimination and a lack of education and discussion regarding mental illness and health in society. This often prevents people from seeking help and, particularly in under-resourced communities, this often leads to unfair criminal incarceration, homelessness, substance abuse and even suicide.”

    Saaiqa continues to express that she feels that people have become more aware and are speaking about self-care but that she isn’t sure of the seriousness of people’s convictions. “I mean it can’t be this surface level thing; this romanticised tumblr type shit is not going to help people.”

    ‘The Tear’

    She explains the link that she made between the theatre and the mind by stating that to her it feels like the perfect metaphor. She sees the mind as a space where performances manifest. “It’s this place where we literally stage our fantasies, suppress trauma, where we interpret reality, create and destroy identity – it is a performance in constant flux. The theatre of the mind is where one continually finds and loses oneself over and over again, through the course of life.”

    To create this body of work Saaiqa’s process was research heavy. She emphasises the importance of research to her practice regardless of how a project conceptually or visually manifests. She had come to the decision that to approach this subject matter she would use alternative visual approaches that include a variety of mediums such as scans, photomontages, Rorschach prints and an installation work.

    “I observed space a lot; I also look at objects and still lives. I think that spaces and objects hold such power within narratives and can often be the centre of the most compelling images. It can also be important to consider, especially when certain ethical decisions need to be made when tackling complex visual stories.”

    ‘The Mad Scene’

    While creating this body of work Saaiqa was volunteering at a psychiatric hospital working in art therapy within the hospital. She regards volunteering as something that was very important for her to do. Although her series does not reflect issues surrounding mental health in a literal way, her experience in volunteering helped her gain a deeper understanding of different people who exist within alternative states.

    “And because this also hits so close to home it was both an opportunity for experiential learning and a way for me to give back/ improve the lives (even if in some small way) of these people who are all too often forgotten by society.  I worked in quite an intense unit, where a lot of patients had severe cases. It was definitely an eye-opening experience, even for me. The combination of poverty, economic strife, social stigma, lack of education, the exacerbation of some situations created by religion and culture –   all form an immense barrier and lead to disastrous outcomes for most individuals. I learnt a great deal about mental health and the state of healthcare in South Africa. I also learnt a lot about myself during this time as well as the lives of women, which was interesting. In that environment, you realise how fragile we all are and how we all undermine our own and each other’s mental health.”

    ‘Suffer Well’
    ‘Restless Chafing’
    ‘Penance I’ & ‘Penance II’

  • Puppy – Demons of the New School

    Puppy – Demons of the New School

    The critical consensus on guitar rock in thelate-90s is that sensitive indie bands were overshadowed by bombastic nu-metal. Music writers love the idea that the slack jawed masses were too busy headbanging to appreciate sophisticated slackers like Built to Spill or Elliot Smith.

    But since 2013, the infectious British rock group Puppy has gleefully subverted this narrative by bridging these supposedly disparate influences. Will Michael (bass/vocals), Billy Howard (drums) and Jock Norton (singer/guitarist) combine the heavy riffs of classic Deftones and Korn with the indie pop of Grandaddy and Teenage Fanclub. This inspired concept forms the basis for their two EP’s Vol I (2015) and Vol II (2016). Puppy’s increasingly heavy work fuses a metal sense of menace with melodious verve and Jock’s strikingly high and clear vocals.

    Billy and Jock have been in the rock trenches together since they were school kids in North London. Via email, Billy discussed the harrowing story of being sent home from school for wearing the f-bomb strewn lyrics of Soulfly’s ‘Jumpdafuckup’ on a t-shirt. He even told me that he was wearing some vintage Deftones gear while replying to my questions. We also discussed  the ultimate fictional representation of a 1990s metal head, the hapless AJ Soprano- “There was a golden age in The Sopranos when AJ’s a young, angsty spotty skater and pretty much everything he says or wears is amazing. I’m pretty sure he has a burgundy Slipknot windbreaker with a barcode on the back. I always wanted one but could never find it. AJ Soprano is, for better or for worse, a definite inspiration on the band!”

    The band is itself quickly making a name for their image with Billy, an accomplished visual artist, directing a string of winningly odd music videos. Keeping things in-house means the videos “are a really important part of our identity and aesthetic, rather than just a means of promoting a specific song”. My personal favorite is the horror themed ‘Beast’, which does a great update on the old metal music video tropes of hooded cultists and evil fog.

    Their most ambitious work to date is ‘Demons‘. “It’s a song about confronting your problems and trying to embrace them somehow. We wanted to work around the aesthetics of various cults, pseudo-sciences and quasi-religions that literally try and sell you an answer to your problems in the pursuit of happiness or whatever”. Further inspiration was found in cultural precedents like Leonard Cohen’s time in a Buddhist monastery and “Beck’s veiled explorations of his own Scientology”.

    Hilariously, they circulated the story that they had joined the totally made up Grand Order of Ascension and Transcendence in a bid to become more successful.

    “In the build up to the video’s release we started making cultish memes and sharing them along with abstract, nonsensical bits of text about our new found faith and love for the Ascended Master! In hindsight though we maybe went a little overboard with it. We got a lot of worried messages from family and friends asking if we were ok. I think some people thought we’d gone fully Children of God. Whilst maybe it wasn’t the cleverest career move, it was definitely fun”.

    Puppy is currently finishing up their debut album for release later this year. Things are poised to get even bigger for them as “last year we signed with Spinefarm Records, which was super exciting for us as they look after some of our favourite bands, like Ghost BC, Electric Wizard and weirdly enough, Korn”. And like their influences, Puppy have the theatricality and songwriting to become cult heroes in their own right.

  • Gaika Performs in the Heart of Jo’burg’s Party Culture – Kitcheners

    Gaika Performs in the Heart of Jo’burg’s Party Culture – Kitcheners

    Built in 1902 Kitcheners (KCB) has been the general stomping ground for generations upon generations of creatives, artists and students alike. Famed as the second oldest building in the city, there is no one occupant of this city who doesn’t know about it. It is more than fitting then that Gaika would perform the Johannesburg leg of his tour at this historic venue.

    Arriving prior to the show, at 18:30 sharp for my interview with him it was eminent that nothing about KCB changes. The built-in upholstered cushioning that surrounds the dance room has reached the end of its lifetime of elegance and is peeling at the seams, presumably due to countless back and bottom harassment from eager party goers. As I walked into the crowded dance floor space the media was closed in by means of the glass and wooden door room dividers. Flashbacks from my student days spent body against body grinding out to some of South Africa’s best local talent all came rushing back to me as my feet stuck to the sticky floor and a minor sweat temporarily took hold of me.

    There he was, locked in a video interview as I waited patiently for my turn to speak to the underground London-based artist. Camo pants, nude Nikes, a white top and a denim shirt loosely styled made up his attire. His demeanour was different from his music. He was calm, relaxed, open, and inviting. Unlike his experimental rap that oozes with pointed criticism on society and a near dystopian future. My turn finally arrived and he smiled at me with kindness, shaking my hand for an official introduction.

    I took a seat next to him and in conversation, I saw a personal side to the artist I had never heard in his lyrics or seen published in any article. A visitor to South Africa for the second time in his life he shared with me that his visit was vastly different from the first he made as a child. Describing it as an emotional experience, Gaika tells me that the decision to embark on this tour was greatly motivated by his need to travel to the furthest place.

    With an ability to partake in an intimate conversation, and seconds later retort with aloofness, I asked him about what he would perform for us that evening. “My records.” He told me as I tried to flesh out more. “I don’t want to ruin the magic so you’ll have to find out.”

    He described his passage into music, “I fell into it really. I always wanted to be around music. I was a visual artist and around musical culture and one day I just decided I want to make music and just got lucky that opportunities arose for me to do that. I was never a kid with a hair brush in the mirror like I wanted to be a singer. My dad got sick and I just decided that you only live once and you’ve got to follow some of the things that you are too scared to follow. Or too scared to try and so I did and I’m quite committed. I want to do it properly. I don’t want to half do things.”

    What stuck with me most was his response to what inspires him “Everything and nothing”. After some prying, he tells me that the sounds of early 80s and 90s film music act as an influence that he can recreate and interpret in his own way. It is as though Gaika finds comfort and inspiration from sounds of his early childhood or as he likes to call it, “kid music”. He does, however, caution by stating that, “I’m not really aware of influences”.

    Dark musical undertones, otherworldly hard-hitting bass and sharp criticism found in his lyrics got me to the question of a possible pessimistic outlook. He responds to me confidently “No that isn’t true. I’m an optimist and a realist. I say it like it is. If it’s uncomfortable it’s uncomfortable. I don’t think I focus on negatives in my life. In my music that can be quite a criticism of energy that I bring out. Things can only get better from confronting what’s wrong in the first place.”

    In parting, he shares with me that he would enjoy another tour like this in the future. The evening draws on as the dance floor greets sets by Rosie Parade and Kajama. 23:00 and the underground thunder of Gaika breaks loose.  His sound intoxicates not only KCB but the streets in its surrounds.

    His outfit has changed. Dressed in all black his music seems to inhabit every human form on the dance floor. The bass amplified and clinical leave my teeth on a near clatter. As he jumps and dances and throws his arms, so the crowd follows in imitation. The music in my bones, in all the life forms stacked on the dance floor, and in the old floorboards of KCB during his performance was so abundant that keeping my camera stable was a balancing act in itself. Gaika spits his lyrics with such intensity it makes his lyrics come across as dogmatic, with synchronized rhythmic bodies as followers of his sonic dogma. His ‘Security’ album takes hold of us and he asks, he pleas for a future of equality. Seeing Gaika live at KCB was nothing short of extraordinary. His vigour for his experimental practice will forever live on in my memory.

  • Questioning Performance Art and Narrating the Stories of Transnational Africans

    Oroma Elewa is a visual and performance artist that identifies as a transnational African. Born in Nigeria, she relocated to New York when she was 15 years old, where she now lives and practices her art, intertwined with time in Marrakesh. She is known for facilitating the path towards a specific African aesthetic that can be characterised as “both African and cosmopolitan” according to the Observer. As someone who has inhabited various spaces, her viewpoint is one that carries the weight of having lived on either side of the Atlantic.

    Oroma’s original interest lay in telling the stories of other Africans that live a shared experience with her in her publication Pop’Africana that ran from 2008 – 2014. “It was for the very educated, well-travelled, cultured African, particularly those who were living in the world in global cities like New York, London, Berlin etcetera. I also wanted to create a certain aesthetic that did not exist for African bodies in the magazine space.” With the rise of social media and people’s ability to tell their own stories she transitioned into a new chapter – telling her own stories as a performance artist.

    Rehearsal still from ‘Piece 6’ of ‘Crushed Guava Leaves’

    Her decision was to immerse herself in performance by means of enrolling at the Lee Strasberg Theatre & Film Institute. “It was my art that drove me to shelter and canopy what was missing in fashion for the African cosmopolitan.” With all of this change Oroma came to the realization that she wanted a different, new way to tell stories and that she wanted to start that process by telling her own.

    “I felt like my personal story was getting lost. I’ve always written, I’ve always taken pictures but the reason I had to take up photography and pick the models and style was because what I wanted to do hadn’t been seen and hadn’t been done.”

    Her latest project takes a tangible form, a book that is described on the artist’s website in the following words “Crushed Guava Leaves is a performance primer. It is performance as play, as identity, as politics, as language and as mannerism. It is a collection of performable short stories – cultural snapshots – borne out of my memories, dreams, encounters, conversations, experiences and observations. All primed to be performed and interpreted through sound and movement, on stage and on film. Each piece ranges in heft and weight, from detailed recountings to fleeting impressions. Yet all invite reflection on the canon of performance art – on what can be performed and what is valuable material for cultural performance. Crushed Guava Leaves is an invitation to immerse in an evocative textual and aural landscape inspired by my remembrances.”

    Oroma is concerned with personal memories, lived experience and telling a story. Since the term artist was coined, artists all over the globe have been trying to make sense of their lives and the world around them. Oroma’s concept is therefore not singularly distinct. What gives her work and conceptual ideas weight is that she is someone who saw the tear in the fabric of the society she is situated in that has misrepresented or completely ignored the narrative she chooses to address – that of the transnational African. Moreover, Oroma’s work is aimed at making her viewers question the basis of what can be considered a performance piece and in this she succeeds.

     

  • Loui Lvndn: Chasing the Princess

    With his debut album ‘Your Princess is in another Castle’, Johannesburg based artists Loui Lvndn presents a body of work with a clear concept and narrative. On the album the singer, songwriter, rapper, performing artist, visual artist and writer uses the video game character Mario and his repetitive quest to rescue his princess as a metaphor for the search of happiness. “Our character is failing to find this princess and the princess is anything, it’s love, your aspirations, the best version of yourself, success. All of those things,“ notes Loui Lvndn.

    Told in a linear fashion, the album follows the exploits of the main character from a cold-hearted, ego driven place to meeting a girl and bringing her into his life, while slowly falling in love with her, before being overcome with jealousy and insecurity, before losing the her in the lifestyle through which they met and ultimately becoming the person he was before they met again. “With the album I resolved to ending the story with two endings. In one ending the repetitive nature of it seizes once the main character Loui achieves this happiness. He finds it in one. And the other ending is recurring. It’s sometimes about the journey. You revel in the moment and the experience of it all. Sometimes you actually do find it. Which is not to say you lose it and you search again. So I added both endings because there is a duality,“ muses Loui Lvndn.

    The album also sees Loui Lvndn in full control of all aspects, from the art direction, to the narrative and the composition. “This is the first time I got full control over what these melodies were doing. What these compositions were like. So I created everything from scratch. For the first time I think this entire body of work is exactly what I sound like today.“ To add the final touches to the album he worked with London-born, Knysna-based producer Jumping Back Slash. “He helped finesse and refine all of the sounds, make them listenable. But he did a super job because he tuned into the wavelength that I was on and actually even took it a step further.“

    Despite presenting dual outcomes to the narrative on the album Loui Lvndn believes that the search for one’s metaphorical princess is continuous. According to Loui, “success will always take a step forward as I take a step forward. So I don’t personally think I’ll ever find it. No matter how successful I am. I can have success and still be looking for it and I can have love and still be looking for it. It just seems like that sort of play.”

     

     

  • Seth Pimentel: exploring dark fantasies through experimental illustrations

    22-year-old illustrator Seth Pimentel, aka CAT FAP, sat casually in the winter morning sunlight resting his arms on his legs in the courtyard of One Eloff. His black Thrasher cap with its yellow logo greeted me before his eyes did. I sat down next to him and we discussed his art and vision for exhibition Future 76.

    Marcia Elizabeth (ME): Could you tell me more about your background?

    Seth Pimentel (SP): I was born and raised in Johannesburg. I started drawing when I was 6 and in school we had to draw 9/11. I drew the shittiest piece of art, the worst 6-year-old drawing you can imagine and my teacher actually liked it. She put it up amongst some of the best drawings in the class. From that day it all just made sense. I went to the National School of the Arts (NSA) when I was 14 and after that I went to Open Window Institute [a private higher education institution focusing on visual arts and digital sciences].

    ME: How would you describe your art?

    SP: I’m an illustrator and a visual artist. My art is weird. It’s a lot of dark stuff that comes from me. I’m not a dark person or anything. Sometimes it’s just great to tap into some kind of energy and create something from that. It’s just me being me. Expressing what I can, how I can.

    ME: In thinking about Future 76, do you feel like it fits into the scheme of what the other artists are doing? How are you thinking about creating a visually appealing flow for the exhibition?

    SP: I definitely think I could fit in with everyone that is exhibiting. We all kind of know each other. When you are friends with people it’s easy to pick up on their energies and adapt to their style, and they adapt to yours. I never usually plan when I work, so whatever happens, happens. It’s youth month, so I think I’m going to work keeping youth culture in mind.

    ME: You were saying that you don’t really plan your work. Does your work fall under the idea of automatic drawing?

    SP: It is automatic drawing. It’s like sitting down and saying to myself, ‘ok cool I’m going to doodle something starting with one side of a face’ and 5 or 6 hours later I’ve got a full illustration. Then I look at it and think, ‘Wow, where did that come from?’. I’m never aware of what’s happening. It always just ends up becoming something.

    ME: Do you feel as though the art world is competitive?

    SP: I was oblivious to the creative industry when I started illustrating. It is a dog eat dog industry. If you don’t meet the deadline someone else will, so you have to do your best. Everyone, no matter who you are, compares themselves to everybody else. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing because if you engage with yourself that’s great. You push yourself to do better. Making sure that you as an individual transcend the level that you are at now. I look at other people’s work and for me that’s inspirational.

    ME: Tracking back to the National School of the Arts, do you think it shaped the direction you chose for your art practice?

    SP: I did industrial design at NSA. I went in thinking I was going to draw my whole life. And in a way I did. I made a lot of linocuts and prints, but I made more furniture and design aesthetic stuff. At Open Window I did Game Design and in my first year I picked up a subject called illustration. From there I was hooked. NSA did help me a lot, even in the way that I communicate with people. We didn’t have cliques or gangs. Everyone was friends with everyone. Racism wasn’t really a thing at my school and everyone was free flowing. I started stretching my ears when I was 16. It was great and different.

    ME: Do you have a specific colour scheme that you go back to?

    SP: I kind of stuck with colour for a long time. Colour schemes become their own motif and their own style and identity. I’ve been using the same colour schemes now for the past month, these weird gradients of greens, reds and blues. I stick to a routine and try use the colour I find on Kuler. If I don’t like it I’ll change up the hue and saturation, and tweak it until I’m happy.

    ME: Do you work with titles?

    SP: Sometimes the titles just come to me, but sometimes I have to force a title out because it’s something that someone wants to buy or it’s for an exhibition. 90% of my works are untitled.

    ME: Do you try and create meaning in your work?

    SP: I stray completely away from meaning. Sometimes it’s great for me because people make their own meaning. I had an illustration that someone else titled “Submerge, Emerge”. It’s a face that’s drowning in water.

    ME: Are there any specific artists who influence your work?

    SP: There are hundreds of artists I look up to. A lot of digital artists, and a lot of traditional artists. Sachin Theng, an illustrator, Natalie Foss, John-Michel Basquiat. A lot of local people as well like my friend Dylan Hartland and Elio the Illustrator. It’s a broad spectrum of people that I know and people that I don’t know.

    ME: Has social media provided a platform for you to be recognized?

    SP: It has, for a while I didn’t like it and then I realized that it helps. If you freelance it creates a space where you can be commissioned from. You kill two birds with one stone and you can survive in this really tough city doing what you love. I’m low key on social media but I love what it’s doing and where it’s taking a lot of people.

    ME: Have you been involved with an exhibition before?

    SP: Yeah I have. I had an exhibition with Imile Wepener and a bunch of other great illustrators like Shaun Hill. I’ve had two live paintings, one at the Johannesburg Hive and one at Joziburg Lane.

    ME: Do you feel like you are a good representative of Johannesburg youth?

    SP: Everyone in Johannesburg is so vastly different. I’d like to think that I am a fair representative of the skater, punk, hip hop and street culture scenes. I am a catalyst of all of these smaller subcultures in Johannesburg, so am I a fair representative to a certain extent.

  • 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.

    722834_01653b57f30d4ebfa0a867e6cd94c793-mv2_d_2480_3508_s_4_2
    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.