Tag: Wits Art Museum

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
Making a name within the frame

I once came across a quote by Steven Fry that read, “a true thing, poorly expressed, is a lie.” These words seemed to tumble around in the back of my mind as I made my way through the survey of Michael MacGarry’s films. Beginning with an animation made as a student in 1999, the exhibition traces his output as a filmmaker, and as a first time viewer of a number of the works, it was refreshing to see a progressing clarity of vision and form as MacGarry masters his craft. Filmmaking is central to MacGarry’s artistic output, and a number of the sculptures, which he exhibits at solo shows, often begin their lives as props for the films, or like his photographic series, take the films and their themes as their reference point.

Held in the basement of the Wits Art Museum, with the walls painted black and the room left dark, ten films are spread throughout the space, either projected onto the walls or on flat screen TV’s, with headphones and bean bags, allowing for a more intimate viewing experience.

Still from Sea of Ash

A kaleidoscope of themes come together, both in the individual films as well as collectively, revealing some of the pressing issues of our day which have been the focus of MacGarry’s practice. Using the form of narrative cinema to combine notions of historic and current imperialism, modernity, migration, economic disparity and urbanization amongst others, MacGarry holds up a poignant mirror to some of the most prevalent issues across Africa today. Excuse me, while I disappear (2015), poetically depicts China’s overshadowing presence in Angola by weaving the narrative of a young municipal worker in and through the huge, largely unoccupied residential buildings constructed in Kilamba Kiaxi, a new city built by the Chinese outside Luanda. Moreover, in the midst of all this, there is a constant interrogation of the artist’s own position within these grand narratives. We see this self-reflexivity most predominately in films such as LHR – JNB (2002 -2010), Sea of Ash (2015) and culminating very personally in the most recently made, two-channel film installation titled Parang (2017), which focuses on the artist’s family history in the Far East.

Speaking to the artist, he said the title for the show came from a feature film he is currently working on and incorporates some of the recurring themes of representational violence seen in a variety of his work. The title, Show No Pain could also be somewhat revealing of the artist’s own practice; giving us as viewers a small insight into the demands and trials placed on an artist pursuing such a career, and the thick skin you have to grow to “make it in the art world.” For someone who’s CV boasts works shown at the Tate Modern and Gugenheim Bilbao amongst other prestigious international institutions, it is fitting that WAM would acknowledge a local artist in the middle of what promises to be a lifetime of progressive artistic production.

Still from Excuse me, while I disappear

Still from Sea of Ash

8 May 2017
NEWWORK 16 Gradshow: dismantling exhibition space

In conversation with Reshma Chhiba, the exhibitions coordinator at the student-run space The Point of Order, she mentioned the above quote as a question that has often been addressed by the final year fine art students at the Wits School of Arts. NEWWORK is the graduate show and has been running for 6 years. “The idea of Newwork is that it’s one of those open platforms where one is able to do anything really in relation to the notion of exhibitions. For now it has been pretty standard. We’ve always had the use of the WAM [Wits Art Museum] basement as the space that one shows in and then over the years people have decided to use their studio spaces or other spaces just as an add on to what they have done previously. So essentially WAM’s basement would be used to house one single work by every single student from the graduating class,” explained Reshma. This year, given Fees Must Fall, the gradshow was about looking at the project of the decolonial and thinking about how we engage spaces that are seen to be traditional spaces for seeing and displaying art. The students chose to display their work at multiple spaces in the city including The Point of Order, Wits School of Arts, Wits Art House, the Art House Windows, Solomon Mahlangu House, Anstey’s studios and Nothing Gets Organized. WAM was not used as a space to display work but rather used as a space to play a documentary video of each artist contextualizing their work, and later in the week, recordings of the three openings that took place from the 1st to 3rd of December were played.

Their entire gradshow from the 1st to the 8th of December tries to dismantle the traditional idea of a gradshow through de-centralizing where works were displayed and performed. “A Gradshow is about a celebration, so in crossing out the word Gradshow, it really became about a non-Gradshow, but a moment to show their work and to think about how to engage with space differently,” explained Reshma. This crossing out of the word gradshow can be seen on the catalogue they put together collectively. In setting up a new kind of gradshow and this crossing out spoke to tensions on campus and the discomfort and uncertainty around having a gradshow considering the student protests and violence through state-sanctioned police on campus, as well as directly engaging with ideas around decolonization. Through displaying and performing their work at multiple venues, including spaces not thought of as exhibition spaces, they were asking questions about how art should be looked at and enacting a form of decolonization of exhibitionary practice. The exclusion of captions or rationales pasted next to each work, the displaying of works outside of the Wits Art Museum, performances taking place on the street, and video works being played outside the Art House walls demonstrate their conscious interrogation of how a gradshow is understood to be put together.

Each student has been working through specific themes throughout the year, and so each space activated by the gradshow provides a different experience for viewers. Themes such as cleansing, anxiety, Coloured identity, institutionalized whiteness, erasure, anxiety, the archive, the Black body as well as space are explored by the artists on display.

While each artist has been working on specific themes within their individual artistic practice, they worked collaboratively on a catalogue. Breaking away from the traditional layout of a catalogue where each artist is assigned a page which displays their name, work and artist statement, this catalogue comes across as an extension of their works as well as a collective artwork in itself. This refusal to create a slick, glossy catalogue was also a reflection of what has been happening at Wits and visually presenting a sense of urgency we find ourselves in. An exercise book was layered with quotes, sketches, research materials and images of works mixed together and then photographed. The end result being a book which is a photograph of a book. This catalogue is presented as a combined visual diary of their research processes as well as invoking the question around education through the use of an exercise book.

Featured artists:

Alexander Appolis ,Gemma Siobhan Hart, Maren Mia Du Plessis, CandiceTaljaard, Yaeli-Mia Bartels, Vivien van Teijlingen, Colleen Greeff, Amber. C. Wessels, Lemishka Moodley, Jessica Janse Van Rensburg, Tsepiso Lekganyane, Nadia Myburgh, Siyanda Marrengane, Marc-Anthony Madella, Refiloe Namise, Gabriel Hope, Tsholofelo Tshegofatso Seleke and Simone Opperman.

8 December 2016