Although Charles Maggs show, Zombie at the AVA, didn't feature a single brain-eating reanimated corpse, it was a good choice of title. Zombie films, since being basically invented by George A Romero with Night of the Living Dead in 1968, are a varied and inventive form of social critique (as well as being damn gory and scary). In some the zombies provide the horrifying impetus for humans to show their bleakest sides, violent and authoritarian. In some, especially Land of the Dead, the zombies become symbolic of an Other, an evolving sub-class, oppressed and hated by the humans who want to protect their possessions (in this instance brains, but you get the idea) and standard of life. Even the classic structure of the zombie film reflects this symbolism, where a small group of insiders fearfully defend their perimeter from those outside who look the same but are different. It can be seen best in Dawn of the Dead, in which the main characters find their sanctuary in a shopping mall. After clearing up the zombies already living there, they settle down, indulging all their material desires while the zombies scrape at the doors (Read a full synopsis on Wikipedia). Essentially, these zombie movies are a criticism of power structures, capitalism and Western hegemony. Of course some, like Resident Evil are just about how sexy Milla Jovovich is, but as she's the doyenne of all of the above the point is the same.

In Charles Maggs Zombie these zombie ideas are strong. In the video piece Protection the visual language of defensive aggression is distilled from clips from an old TV series. In this instance, two police officers circle menacingly on motorbikes. More significantly than the language uncovered is its source: an innocent light watch on the box contains the posturing and signifiers of a latent exclusionary and correctional force.

A clearer relationship is visible in the series of prints, half titled Suspect, the others called Victim. (read how Charles created the work on his blog. It's important)
Those outside the perimeter are made into the either the silenced Victim of the fear of those inside, and the violent response to that fear, or are the shadowy Suspect, evil and unredeemable. Zombies, of course, are sub-humans and don't deserve rightful recourse to the law. He'll eat your brain unless you act swiftly and with extreme prejudice.

And just in case you believed the Cranberries when they said, " But you see, it's not me, it's not my family," Charles has a final work on the show Monologue, in which he speaks to himself from two screens. The talking heads speak to each other about fear echoing the type of paranoia that I think many of us viewers will find creepily familiar. Indeed it is the symptom of living on the inside. Somebody is going to eat your brains.

Labels: ava, Charles Maggs, contemporary art, south african artist, zombie

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

Thanks to Matt Hindley, for the heads up on this. In a Sunday Times article, Sean O'Toole, editor extraordinaire and short story writer, says that Guy Tillim, along with Moshekwa Langa and Wim Botha, are the sexiest artists, while commenting on a recent portrait of him by Deborah Poynton. Says Matt: "No mention of the devastatingly handsome Robert Sloon..." Oh well, better luck next time. But where are the sexy female artists?

Labels: Guy Tillim, Sean O'Toole, south african artist

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

Terms of Endearment”
Johan Thom
Single Channel Video loop
Duration: 4min49sec
Preview available on www.youtube.com/thomjohan
......................................................................
The Omo Mailbag
Freepost Address
Kwazulu Natal
Durban
South Africa
4000

Dear Sir/Madam,

I have had a ‘great experience’ with OMO Multi Active washing powder. Please find enclosed a short DVD (4min39sec) detailing this wonderful encounter.

For ever so long I have felt dirty and dejected. My thoughts have constantly veered to the dark side – swearing like a trooper, having outrageous sexual fantasies, desiring the overthrow of the establishment and generally thinking about death. But no longer. I have thoroughly cleansed myself with your product. I must say though that it tastes awful though (fortunately I had some Champagne on hand to wash away the aftertaste and to celebrate my newfound lease on life). Now my life seems worthwhile, and I have an added spring in my step. Wherever I go people can notice the difference.

However, should say that the OMO Toll-free Helpline wasn’t helpful at all. But I guess that is the wonder of our brave new world. We can help ourselves. Thus after carefully following your instructions for use in a frontloading machine, I decided that, for such severe filth as pervades my being, one scoop simply wouldn’t do. I am happy to report that a whole 1kg box seems to have done the trick (for now anyway).

Rest assured that I am not an idiot or a madman: I know that this product is meant for use in a machine! But after having read so much contemporary philosophy and socio-political theory I cannot help but experience my body as a mechanical gadget simply in service of the state, capitalism, patriarchy, colonialism and god knows what or who else.

So as long as I keep on having dirty thoughts I am going to keep loading my machine with your product! I am really committed to being a well-adapted, fully functional citizen.

If you ever need anyone to testify to the power of OMO washing powder, know that I am your man.

Yours truly

Johan Thom

Labels: Johan thom, south african artist, video art