Chronic hangover now past, I'm back in action. Here's a great piece from Hayibo.
Thanks Kirsty and Renee for the tip.


JOHANNESBURG. Oil giant Sasol says it remains committed to supporting South African artists but has urged them to create work more in line with Sasol's ethos of complete corporate subjugation of free will. The statement follows weekend revelations that the winner of this year's Sasol New Signatures art competition had upset the company's employees by showing a glimpse of a penis.

Familieportret No 2, a photograph by artist Richard Strydom, also featured a young woman baring one of her breasts. However Sasol spokesman Pieter-Willem Botha said that staff had had no problem with the breast.

"We at Sasol accept that all art is ultimately about looking at naked women," he told the media this morning.

"There is nothing more natural than a nice big breast pinned up on a cubicle wall or in a workshop, or slipped into your desk drawer."

He added that he was "obviously talking about a picture of a breast and not a real breast" as it would contravene health and safety regulations to pin a real breast to a cubicle wall.

However, he said, the penis featured in the photograph had been too much for many at Sasol's head office.

"For most of our male employees the penis represents frustration, disappointment and failure," said Botha.

"And for our female employees it pretty much means the same."

He said that Sasol would continue to sponsor the New Signatures competition to help identify and nurture artistic talent, but hoped that artists would enter more appropriate pieces next year.

"Obviously we're not going to dictate form and content," said Botha. "But if entrants are unsure, perhaps a useful guideline might be to aim at the sort of thing that the members of our Board have in their homes."

He said these included bronze sculptures of leopards drinking at watering holes, photo-realistic paintings of lovable black urchins playing soccer, "and obviously lots of stuff by the doyen of bespoke domestic art, Carol Boyes".

"In fact we are hoping that Carol enters Sasol New Signatures next year," he added. "Maybe with a big set of salad spoons that can represent the past and the future of South Africa, coming together to load the lettuce of harmony and the feta cheese of forgiveness onto the Boardmans crockery of democracy.

"Or something lekker arty like that."

Labels: contemporary art, richard strydom, sasol, south african art

I'm posting this review after the show closed last week, for which I'm sorry. It's a pity because it was a decent show. The show was called Telling Fibs: An Exhibition of Lies, and some works did indeed achieve the elegance of a good lie.

While some of the didactic works were a bit ham-handed (Some bordering on the Sunscreen Song: "Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly", a protest so obvious but so useless), the Skull works kept me at the show. Firstly they're a big move away from the type of work Warren is known for producing (streety paintings, some of which could still be seen), which had a formulaic ring to them: the Sean Landers doodly thing, fun but not for long. Mere misrepresentations, not decent lies.

Secondly, I love books. The skulls were moulded out of pulped first editions of Peter Pan, Moby Dick and Heidi. The tragedy, heart break, of seeing books destroyed, really hurt. It made the works a little incisive.

Essentially, the works were a complaint against the decay of the analogue against the march of the digital. Or a lament for a bygone era. It's not a point of view I agree with, although I have passion for paper I have faith in the Internet. Nostalgia for a past we didn't live in is just another way of packaging history into accessible bytes. It's a lie we tell ourselves. But it is a view that I can sympathise with. Unlimited access to information (almost) has made the world a harder place to navigate. It has killed off the page, to an extent, as Warren implies. But the important bits of the page, the black parts, are alive and well.

Update: I somehow managed to not mention the artist's full name. It's Warren Lewis in case you were wondering what the fuck I was on about.

Labels: contemporary art, south african art, warren lewis

The following was produced by a very young student, but I thought it was pretty insightful. Well done Miss Cotton.

Rowan Smith’s Future Shock Lost, held at ‘What If The World’ Gallery, consisted of sculptures, photographs and veneer pictures, all alluding to early digital aesthetics and, in turn, nostalgia for past ideals of the future. These ideals, always emerging along with technology of the time, were (and still are) translated into science fiction and escapist fantasy. All factors of the exhibition; including the bright lighting, the startling whiteness of the walls, the general minimalism, lack of personal or sentimental touches (as well as the artworks themselves), contributes to create a (retro?) futuristic atmosphere, akin to the inside of a space shuttle.

An obsession with “outer space” is often considered an attribute of childhood. “Future Shock Lost”, in this regard, refers to a deep nostalgia for childhood and/or eras long past. This concept is further enhanced in the manner in which old appliances are romantised, and revered as important ancestors to current technology, rather than “junk” to be disposed of. As technology is developed for human progression, it thus embodies (for the people of that time) ideals of what the future will be like. Every outdated appliance represents a “dead” or at least abandoned future.

Smith is strongly influenced by the presence of the digital age, as well as the forgotten technology it has replaced. As a young artist, he would have witnessed the transformation from analogue technology (such as movie tapes, and VCRs), into slick, prevailing digital technology (such as DVDs and MP3s).

The entire exhibition can be understood as a yearning to ‘escape’ the present by merging existential notions of the future with everyday domesticity. Radio Olympus Mons, a sculpture created out of vertically aligned radio aerials, is arranged in a manner so as to precisely depict the contours of Olympus Mons, the highest peak on Mars. The sculpture relates to early 1900s, when scientists bombarded Mars with radio signals in the hope of finding and communicating with alien life. This again refers to man’s almost childish desire to grasp the future, as emulated in science fiction involving space, the future and time travel.
The centrepiece of the exhibition is entitled Dot Matrix Loop'. It consists of three outdated printers, such as would have been common in offices in the 80s and 90s, hung from the ceiling by metal rods. The machines are arranged so that the long stream of paper printed in one loops through the others, forming a never-ending cycle of printing. 150 human figures are randomly printed. This contraction, like many of the other artworks constructed, is entirely impractical, entirely illogical and quite bizarre. By divorcing connotations of technology encompassing practical functions, it allows the viewer to interrogate the machine as a works of art. The illogic as to how Dot Matrix Loop functions communicates the excitement and magic the artist feels regarding retro-technology. The absurdity of the machine can be connected to the notion of creating fantastic and complicated machinery to perform simple or unnecessary tasks (eg, Doctor Seuss’ flamboyant mechanical drawings, or the American cartoonist, Rube Goldberg’s [1883-1970] drawings) and ignites the viewer with childlike fascination.
One factor contributing to the futuristic atmosphere of the exhibition, as well as proving an important motif throughout, is the lack of sound emitted from the machinery. As noise is usually associated with production and function, the silence in the exhibition further elevates the displayed technology to the status of art. Notions of noise are expressed only through visual representation, such as in Florian, Karl, Wolfgang and Ralph. The title refers to the four members of the band, Kraftwerk, considered to be the founders of electronic music. Kraftwerk exalted in technology, and believed in a harmonious union between man and machine, and created music solely by electronic means. In 1981 they wrote a song “Pocket Calculator”, glorifying and romantising the hand-held machine that, at that time, still retained novelty. Florian, Karl, Wolfgang and Ralph is a modified ‘ready made’, consisting of four pocket calculators hung on a wall. Each calculator has been programmed to simultaneously perform the function of one of the four Kraftwerk members in the song “Pocket Calculator” (One calculator displays the drum tab, one the lyrics, one the synthesiser tab and one the keyboard tab). Hung in perfect symmetry, the calculators thus refer to the perfect order that Kraftwerk relished in machinery. The fact that pocket calculators are in a sense ‘performing’ a song entitled ‘pocket calculator’ creates an element of humour and absurdity in the work.
Static Universe continues the theme of silence. It is a photo-etching of television static, framed in such a manner as to appear as if sitting in a television box. The image of static refers to the microwave theory, a theory claiming radiation from the Big Bang still exists inside static, even in the most domestic of appliances. Static Universe conveys the dazzling message that something as incomprehensible as the creation of the universe is linked with mundane everyday existence.

Goodbye Enemy Airship conveys a similar theme of silence. It is a record player wired to continuously play a record, adorned with the exact plotting of a constellation of stars. The record’s grooves have been sanded down, thus making the record spin in dead silence.

In An Extension Cord as though it Were on the Surface of the Moon, a tangled knot of wood is carved to exactly mimic an extension cord. The sculpture floats from the ceiling, as though liberated from earth’s gravity. By connecting notions of “space travel” with something as domestic as an extension cord, the most simple and thankless of appliances, Smith interrogates the response of simple technology to futuristic space travel. The wooden extension cord appears to be knotted with a degree of randomness, but the composition is harmonious and balanced in its over all effect. The two opposite ends of the plug face each other, as though poised to “fit” together, although at polar ends of the sculpture. This can be a subconscious reflection of the artist’s immense love for technology, and a desire for the primal, possibly sexual unification of plug and socket, man and machine, and the future and the present. The positioning of the plug and socket is successful in how it affects composition. Nothing in the sculpture allows the viewer’s eyes to escape the sculpture – the long tangle of wood leads the eye in a circular motion. This entrapment of the eye is significant, as is reflects on the nature of daydream and getting “lost in one’s thoughts”.

As an insulator, wood is an entirely impractical medium to carve extension cords. The love and care bestowed on the wood in order to give it a highly representational appearance forces the viewer to examine the artworks in a new manner. Using wood, a very ancient medium for sculpture, also adds a historical element to the artwork. It reinforces the aesthetic appeal with which Smith regards old technology.
Despite connotations of technology being the enemy of romance, Smith merges the two in a manner graceful, witty and creative.

Labels: contemporary art, rowan smith, south african art, student review, What if the world

I've been pretty much cooped up in the office, or lying gently moaning in bed, and haven't much wanted to venture into the real world. Its nice then that some people bother to put a comprehensive overview of their show on-line. The other advantage to this, of course, is that the Internet is far more permanent than the real world. It really is a good idea.

So take a look at Experimental Frontiers a show of Nigerian and South African artists. My only wish is that they'd uploaded high-res versions of the individual works. Still, worth a peek.

Update: I messed up the URL link. It should be working now.

Labels: experimental frontiers, nigerian art, south african art

'Twas a busy week last week. Plenty of shows on, plus I'm making progress on the Relaunch of ArtHeat (keep your eyes open for that in the coming month: Big Party in the works). This is keeping my brain in a mush-like state, hence the general round-up.

In news, James Webb won ABSA l'Atelier, although it has been almost impossible to find this out. Very quiet web presence. Congratulations to him, though. I liked the Auto-hagiography work. The Gerard Sekoto prize went to Retha Ferguson, and I cannot find the winning work on-line. Or again, much presence at all.

Maybe next year, South Africa will have grown some black artists.

Monday saw the opening of Scratching the Surface Vol 1, at the AVA. Independently curated shows make me happy, and the quality of the last two shows at AVA show this well, Baring by Eunice Geustyn was good (not reviewed here owing to aforementioned mush), and this one by Gabi Ngcobo and Mwenya Kabwe of manje-manje projects, was complex and interesting, and at times frustrating and bleak. Good ingredients. I'm writing a full review elsewhere, so I can't say too much more, so here is a review by Miles Keylock.

Tuesday featured Rowan Smith's Future Shock Lost at Whatiftheworld. Think Arcade Fire's Neighbourhood #2 (Laika), but less whiny. A must see show. Again, I can't say too much more at this stage: the downside of being a rock star.

I dropped by the Bell-Roberts to catch the tail-end of their inaugural show, Between Meaning and Matter. Being a mostly oooh-look-who-we-got-in-our-stable-show, the title was on spot: it didn't mean much nor matter much. There was some really delicate sculptures by Philippe Bousquet, nice and unmonumental, and a funny video by Fahamu Pecou. My only regret is that I appeared to have missed a video by Jaques Coetzer, whose work I enjoy.

Labels: ava, Bell-Roberts, Gabi Ngcobo, mwenya kabwe, rowan smith, south african art, What if the world

Curated by Okey Nwafor (co-curated with the Cape Africa Platform Young Curators)
This exhibition juxtaposes the production of young artists from Nigeria and South Africa in order to see how their different concerns and issues coincide and diverge. This is the first exhibition to specifically address this juxtaposition and to examine the commonalities that artists from two of Africa’s most important countries have in common.
In particular, works that address social concerns have been selected: how are these concerns articulated by artists from these two geographically and culturally separated countries? What meanings are embedded in their works? These are some of the curatorial issues that Nwafor addresses in this exhibition.
Participating artists: Bright Eke; Amarachi Okafor; Ozioma Onuzulike; Chike Obeagu; Ndide Dike (Nigeria); Stuart Bird; Dan Halter (South Africa).
Okey Nwafor has curated this exhibition as part of the African Program in Museum and Heritage Studies (APMHS) in Association with the Cape Africa Platform.
Opens: 17:00 7 August 2008
Closes: 17:00 12 August 2008
Cape Africa Platform
8 Spin Street
Cape Town
Enquiries: penncils@yahoo.com

Labels: listings, nigerian art, south african art, Vansa, Young Curators

Image: Lyndi Sales
The idea was a nice one, and kudos must be given to Kirsty Cockerill. She changed the old annual committee's choice exhibition to a committee and critics choice exhibition. A smart way to liven up a pretty staid show.
It was strange, having been involved (yes, yours truly was a critic selector) a little with the show and seeing all the work before the opening. Still, I duly went to celebrate the vernissage, with fine wine, and having not eaten, looking forward to the AVA's new snack policy. There was a lot of murmuring as all-girl collective Doing it for Daddy was planning something with some bands right after the speeches. The story goes back a little further even: when the fliers were released (a picture of a mysterious red curtain adorned the front), they changed their stage to include a red curtain, effectively stealing the flier image post-mortem. The bands were ok, they sang an ode called Sweet Virginia to Virginia MacKenny, the critic who chose the girls. It was humorous to say the least, and much in line with the collectives incessant teasing of art world structures, by being terribly circular and self-referential.

Also on the show were some old favourites, Julia Rosa Clark's Dodgy Weather, James Webb's Auto-Hagiography, some nice drawings by Thando Mama, some pieces by Lyndi Sales (in our last conversation she called me meanhearted. So only a brief mention here), prints from Churchill Madikida, etc.

Besides these, there were a couple of works that I really enjoyed. The first was new work by Dan Halter, who has moved from making maps into different territory. There were two pieces, the first being the words 'Safe as Fuck' spelled in iconic red ribbon, affixed with hypodermic needles. The second was a portrait of Henry the fourth beaded by the ladies at Monkey Biz (a non-profit organisation for women with Aids). Henry the Fourth is Rhodie slang for HIV. I am continually impressed with the way Halter approaches social issues without reverting to the plaintive, descriptive work of many people.
The second piece was by Ed Young, who in true style, wasn't picked as an artist or a critic. Watching him moan and whine for a week was a very happy time for me. (That reminds me of a incident this week when Gabriel Clark-Brown emailed me with the subject line reading 'Ed You Must Meet With Me'. I'm surprised that people continually get confused. Be a little more clever people. Not every young white artist in this town is Ed).
The third piece was by Chad Barber, a student who hasn't exhibited before. He put up a very funny piece called Image of Jesus licked clean by a dog. The materials used read 'Sheet, Semen, Miniature Pinscher, Saliva.' I liked that, a very simple sculpture that occurs almost entirely in words.
The fourth piece was my own selection for the show, David Scadden, who put up an animation called Pink Rabbit. I really suggest you go see this piece.

Labels: ava, kirsty cockerill, south african art, south african artist

ArtHeat proudly presents a new venture, The ArtHeat DataBase. The database is a long-term project, which aims to build an extensive resource of contemporary African artists, organizations and concepts, focusing initially on South Africa. The idea is to expand it and keep it relevant by a process of user-based content. It takes the form of a wiki, a page that a reader can edit through the browser, using a specific easy to learn language. In this way the site becomes a resource for, and by, the community.
So sharpen your keyboard, and dive in. Start with a page on you, makes some links, and start sharing your knowledge.

Labels: artheat database, south african art

I believe I've called for the sterilisation of advertisers on more than one occasion, but I really like Ijusi. I think it's great, funny, witty design, with a good message, and best of all almost free of the spectre of money that haunts most design. I don't know if Garth Walker, the creator of Ijusi, made a dent in design in SA, I still see too much crap out there, like that stupid, badly designed ArtHeat blog. But at least these things make you believe that design can be a force for good.

Labels: design, review, south african art, south african artist

My feelings about paper are something I don't hide. Printmaking classes at art school left scars, that are continually abraded by the horror of the pretty box identity work that is the mainstay of young lost undergraduates and horrible artists. The idea of cutouts makes me cold sweat, and the words moleskine, fabriano, 2B and putty rubber make it freeze onto my body. Awful, mean, tactile material. Shudder.

So I walked into the AVA with some apprehension this afternoon. I missed the opening owing to a mixture of being mildly ill and discovering all six seasons of Sex and the City on DVD (it happens to the best of us). I must admit though instead of horror Liza Grobler's Nine Chicks and a Dick series left me pleasantly amused. The lines had whimsy, and the surreal (can one still use that word?) approach to drawing wasn't overblown, didn't leave a bad taste, and was funny. Only problem was there were 9 pictures of chicks, one portrait of a dick all making good conceptual senses, and then a strange and ugly drawing of an eye, and some balls of barb wire sculptures. One must ask why. Still better than the shite that normally adorns paper.

The next room was also nice. This show called Paper and Me was a group show about some artists relation to paper. Some was gross, and I can't even remember it, just a blur of little torn out things and some decorative crap that'd look good above my TV when I advance to all four seasons of Grey's Anatomy. But some of it was ok. Lynette Bester had a series called Bitter Sweet that was paper pulp moulded into the shape of tree bark, funny in the same way that that Sushi restaurant with the fish tank tables was funny. Just slightly less macabre. Marna Hatting made some nice mysterious drawings. There was someone else who made some cut and paste things, called Waiting for Information which was interesting in a cut and paste cutesy way. can't remember the artist because (see paragraph one) I wasn't carrying a notebook.

Kirsty Gallery Director asked me to promote the New Media room, which has had a dearth of submissions since it opened. She says with all the moaning about video art recently somebody should be getting off their arses.

Oh, and there were some paintings upstairs.

Labels: ava, review, south african art, south african artist

I read in the Sunday Times today that old South African paintings are just cruising along in a recent auction by Bonham's. After that Irma Stern sold for R7 million a couple of months ago, this week The Tomato Picker sold for a cool 2.8, Pierneef sold just past the 1mil mark and Alexis Preller for half of that. All well over their reserve prices. Even the ugly surrealist stuff. I know it’s a bull market at the moment in general, but one can’t help wandering if it’s worth it to own these objects.

What was surprising is that most of the South Africans there were non-buyers, and that these purchases were made by European collectors. I don’t understand market forces too well, and I know that these works are in a collectible European modernist style, but I hope the interest extends and grows to include a more contemporary South African art. Not that we need those neo-colonialist, but I wouldn’t mind if I were drinking Dom Perignon while I wrote this.

Labels: art market, south african art, south african artist