Thursday, November 29, 2012

Woven Images – In the Depth of Beauty

Ekujuleni kobuhle.


 
The scarcity of female art practitioners has been a lamentable feature of the South African artscape. And this has been the case even in the days of apartheid. The problem is also compounded by inadequate exposure of these artists; therefore a paradigm shift needs to occur. The onus is upon creative sensibilities of present curators to start celebrating these female voices, while recognising their responsibility in this project of exposing female, and more specifically black female artists. And incidentally at a recent Walkabout with crafter, Phumzile Buthelezi August, these and other were the sentiments of both the resident artist and curator Belinda Hlaka, who has unquestionably been at the helm of guiding the Workers’ Museum through a transformative phase, which now sees the space being a culturally vibrant site, hosting a number of art exhibitions and events.



This first solo exhibition titled ‘In the Depth of Beauty’, charts the artist personal reprisal of interaction with ‘materials’, a threading of seeming disconnected collected debris into a singular integrated expression. These artworks are a merging of practices she explored in the past into a single body of work, which I believe is quite ‘a shedding of one’s spirit’ and looking ‘In the Depth of Beauty’; weaving an art form that mirrors her intrigue with the relationship between the woven form, colour, texture and the mystery that is life. An appreciation of August’s weaved art seems to take two forms. The first insists that the tapestries resemble something that came off a loom rather than an easel, while the second doesn’t necessarily object to a close imitation to a painting. 


Her authentic hand-woven paintings are reminiscent of tapestries designed and created by traditional loom techniques yes, with grid-like structuring of overlapping layers embodying ‘brush-strokes. Beginning with the creation of a water-colour design on either paper, tissue paper or printmaking proofs she collects from various sources, and continuing through the timeless process of weaving, she crafts artworks radiant in originality and technical approach.  

The urge that accelerates her embrace of the medium is its “demand for accuracy in combining different shades, textures and colour to recreate the artworks I choose. I specifically chose mostly female artists like Erma Stern, for instance, because I constantly want to understand these artists’ way of thinking and methods of getting their colours correct. Which is a complicated task sometimes, with limited materials and having to mix the spectrum of colour, contrast I would perhaps find on most of those painting”. 



Weaving has that undeniable lure attributed to its versatility as well as durability, while remaining complex enough to be a challenging exercise for any crafter. By intricately interlacing various colourful papers and textured materials that are cut, moved and layered, she re-integrates weaving and contemporary art to produce works that cannot be forged, because the technique itself is a complex and individualised experience that is hard to counterfeit.

There exists a proclivity in her work towards ‘re-compositions’ of famed paintings by master artists like Van Gogh, Erma Stern Gerald Sekoto and Matisse, artists who continue to inspire her incessant thirst for exploring various techniques and materials through her craft. 

Through her patient methodology that can span “two to four weeks”, a woven rendition of Erma Stern’s original Still Life canvas comes to life on Still of Roses and Apples. These geometric abstracts cleverly woven to arouse colours that are signature Van Gogh style for instance, take hours of laborious labour she confesses. To create her replication of Peasant Woman Gleaning, makes her art religiously analogous to original prints of the chosen prototypes.


She therefore comes to the fore as a pioneer in a new breed of weavers that re-imagine the art world's most laborious form for the 21st century – tapestry weaving; as a form of signature style that imbues the creator’s touch a god-like stature. In her works, the human touch is by no means obsolete, but dynamic in that through this medium she is capable of transcribing impressionistic works, looking at Dance with Matisse, which mimics the ‘The Dance’ to a near hyper-realistic resemblance. 


“Any artists can work hard on a piece of work, and quite often you work very close to the surface of your work. But once you step back, you start seeing the other life coming together. The pixilation which I see when close to my works disappears therefore every time I step away from my artworks.” This phenomenon is prevalent in most art practices, from sculpture, paintings, weaving, even photography; she admits. Her relation to the idea of art being capable of transforming its messages, therefore meanings is summed up in a statement she recalls as: “You don’t make art to finish.” This has been reinforced by the fact that most viewers of certain pieces deem them incomplete, take … for instance, the charcoal sketched subjects in the frame become unnerving for many.


The specificity with which through her medium of weaving is employed for art reproduction, in that the artist has to rely on precise technical knowledge of colour combinations, texture, the reproduced artists’ technique and “their inner perspective of various hues and shades”, compels Phumzile to constantly study art.  At present her passion for Impressionist painting and theory are fuelling experimentation through her current body of work, and the patience cultivated through embroidery perhaps, is sure to produce works that will not only put female artists back on their deserved spot-light, but elevate the cross-discipline art practices of multimedia to a prominence unbeknown. 


I had the pleasure of a touring the exhibition under the informative guidance and supervision of Phumzile Buthelezi August, and together with Belinda Hlaka much about technique, inspirations and future aspirations was elaborated upon. Incidentally, the exhibition is comprised of 30 artworks, one of which is an installation that remains “Untitled”, as the subject matter female gender identity and security dealt with is in continuous flux.


“Confrontationalism” is often a preferred method of addressing gender politics on an artistic platform; this is evinced by a plethora of recent works having relied exclusively on vulgarity and sexualization of representation. The representation of the female subject’s insecurities and vulnerabilities in contemporary art is a theme that has been vastly explored, both by feminist artists and those who have often been drawn towards capturing the female figure into a kind of "captive body". And often than not, allusions in art towards "captive and invaded identities" come from women artists, most of whom are women who have experienced a certain disdain for subservience associated with womanhood. 


This was similarly the case with Phumzile, who at certain phases of her life "hated being a woman", the common reason being a social hierarchical system that is patriarchal and misogynist, which deems women inferior and thus incapable of artistic expression and responsibilities. Her reaction to the unjust nature of this disparity became an installation which can appear "defensive" at first glance, but when you pay close attention, all facades of masculine bravado dissipate. “The Armour”, becomes a symbol of invisible shields carried by contemporary womanhood in defence against an onslaught of perpetual insults and sexualised brutality directed at their collective worth as mothers and nurturers. And as far as the relationship of artistic occupation and social commentary is concerned, she had a lot to say which will be posted at on a later post.

In closing, to use the words of Courtney Martin, a renowned art teacher and writer, “a contemporary woman artist still needs a room of one's own and, as Woolf also urged, financial security, in order to make great art, but she also needs "an ego of one's own," and "a network of one's own." If her art is to get out into the world -- written about, represented by galleries, and anointed by museums and art collectors as worthy -- she has to be able to talk her work up, have somebody powerful willing to listen when she does, and not face gender stereotypes that she is transgressing social norms by doing so.”

Photographs by: Khahliso Matela

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Spirits of Workers – The Workers Museum

A Visit.



The Workers Museum is quite an anomalous site and more so as a reminder of an epoch that sundered many unions of black souls, prostituted our forefathers strengths and squeezed unheard sobs from our foremothers’ breasts. A haunting space where perchance one could say, black masculinity was further denuded of its dignity, in the grand project of dehumanizing black people. It is like a vortex of spirits, where wails paint the mournful pale solitary confinement cells, disgraceful communal ablutions, and the long queue of crimson showers hovering like gas pumps reminiscent of Nazi concentration camps.





A square for an eternal vigil our mothers’ expectant bosoms hold even in death, where in sleep, their walks always tread walls of a cold monument. This stands for a tombstone of their children’s dreams that perished with their fathers disgraced.





Sombre is the mood it arouses, yet there is a glimmer of light in the sad fires of memory that says; never again would the fabric of the black family be squandered for weaving the blood-drenched robe of the oppressor’s gown of glory.



The place was built in 1913, which synchronously seems to coincides with land dispossessions put into law through the infamous Natives Land Act, the lure of cheap labour to the city of gold, a year after the founding of the African National Congress which speared-headed a formative confrontation against a system of oppression that favoured a minority of whites. Records have shown the appalling conditions at this compound and hostel, which was initially utilised to house the city’s Cleansing and Sanitary Staff, re-designed to house 330 workers by the beginning of 1927. As one of a few remaining compounds that were run by the Johannesburg municipality, the compound remained operational until as recently as the early 80's, and was finally converted into a storage facility later in that decade.

Now, a heritage site under the Johannesburg City Municipality, the museum houses a variety of exhibitions. The resident exhibition entails photographic depiction of life in the compounds and hostels of past times, audio-visual recordings of workers who lament scarring separations from their families and an exhibition of Jurgen Schaderberg’s images from the historic Sophiatown times, which vibrantly mirror an innate cultural component instilled into compound life by the migrant labourers. Over and above boasting abundant space for conferences, workshops, and a gallery space, the compound is incidentally hosting an exhibition of artwork by renowned weaver and print-maker, Phumzile Buthelezi August.

Images of The Compound








Squat toilets, with no doors or partitions.







One latrine provided for every 41 men





One cold shower for every 36 men.






The beds were of a two tier system - the lower bunk a concrete shelf, and the upper one, a wooden shelf.






The lock-up room






Rules were severe

"When you make noise past the noise hour, it was an offence.
If you wake up before time, it was an offence.
If you miss work, it was an offence.
So was having a fight!
But being beaten up by the Compound Manager was a better punishment than losing one's job."
                    Sidney Moloi, former Newtown Compound resident, 2009

Standing in solitary inferiority among colossal buildings that pierce the Johannesburg skyline; the Worker’s Museum embodies a time capsule that teleports souls into spaces that have a million stories untold. Located at the heart of the Newtown Cultural Precinct, the compound, together with the nearby cottages for white workers, was declared a national monument in 1996 and by 2009, the buildings were extensively renovated, and the exhibition installed. Through this exhibition, glass-caged fragments of a past community of victims and soldiers are frozen and left for memory to resuscitate them back to ghostly life. A kraal for our fallen ancestors who toiled for a hope of descendants made of a flourishing people. It is a sanctum for dethroned kings, whose Queens held onto crowns in hope of a return to the homelands.
 




And it is with fond nostalgia for the Khanya College days, when the museum was home to poets and writers, a pool of knowledge in a library once managed by PO Sekele among other young progressive minds, that I write this piece. These walls witnessed the birth of The Muthaland Funk, revolutionary voices that consumed Marxist pamphlets and subversive literature in place of totalitarian newspaper columns. 




The halls still echo with utterances by scribes such as Mak Manaka, the strife ridden voice of Motho Fela and the now sprawling breed of black thinkers guiding a nation through turbulent times. Reclusive voices of Johannesburg’s underbelly found an exorcised stage with ripened ears, the tormented and dispossessed brought tongues to the introverts and the bleeding heart of post-apartheid youth gave birth to itself. The landless and foreign to an intelligence that bred their present conditions, studied and discussed philosophy from shredded books donated by anonymous faces and wrote manifestos.

This was the Worker’s Library, a place that also lives in the chapters of a story carried by this revered place.  It was in the past our fathers’ masked anarchy that was scribbled as anthems of lament on these walls, and during the heydays of performances and screenings of pertinent films, young voices of protest produced not eulogies but political poetry, music and theatre in homage to the fallen.

OPENING TIMES:
Tuesday – Sunday: 09h00 – 17h00 (9.00am - 5.00pm)
Closed on Mondays, Good Friday and 25th & 26th December
MUSEUM CONTACT:
Telephone : +27 (0)11 492-0600/-1865
Fax : +27 (0)11 492-0618

Photographs by: Khahliso Matela