“I saw the angel in the marble and carved and carved until I set him free.” – Micheal Angelo
These words lead you into the Jozi Art Fair and have special significance when the first installation is that of a rectangular walkway strewn with rusted pangas and machetes, six foot wired fencing surrounds the walk way on both sides and are topped with barbed wiring. One guard in black walks inside this walkway and another stands outside. In the middle, the rectangle in the middle of the walkway, is green grass that looks very, very green. With the second major tragedy to strike Tsvangerai, this installation is set in even starker relief…I just wish there was something more to do than symbolic protest that will probably not set the millions of angels suffering in Zim free.
Anyway. the Jozi Art Fair has been on my must do list for at least a month and I had a blast strolling around the installations. First there’s the art but there’s also the art community who come out in all their glorious craziness; the OTT outfits varied from Zulu beading gone wrong, classic Parisian chic, mad hairdos, run-of-the-mill emos and everything odd in between. And then they opened their mouths and spoke! The pretension, for example, doesn’t ooze, it doesn’t flow – it bloody-well gets up and struts. And I revel in it: all the characters that breathe life and thought into the world of art.
Still on the topic of pretension, or rather arrogance, please indulge me as I air two pet grievances I have. Firstly, I loathe it when people say “RXXX XXX for that?!”. If you walk into someone else’s space do have the good form not to offend their soul bared for your perusal – it’s inexcusably rude and although I have thought a similar thought, there is no pressing need for you to air it. If you don’t want to pay said amount, then don’t do it and you won’t feel ripped off – I guarantee it. Secondly, the remark “I could have done that” is probably as relevant to art as processing cheese. Who cares if you could “do that”, you didn’t, did you? And as to the level of skill you think should be employed, the fact of the matter is that there are numerous artists around the world who make indistinguishable forgeries of legendary artist’s work but they themselves never did anything of their own, the point being that although they could do it – they didn’t. So get over it! Walk on and look for something that does inspire you.
As to the art itself, I had a killer jealous moment when some North African dude simply walked in and said: “I want that and that and that…” – there was so much I wanted! Paula Louw took an old type writer and painstakingly disassembled it, then mounted the various components in an arrangement on Perspex. On the one hand it looks beautiful but more importantly, how relevant is this piece to Moral Fibre when our whole lives are built around writing and books – well almost; family, friends, food, art and music too…but without the written word our lives would be as bleak as Zim.
Phillimon Hlungwabe’s graceful charcoal Tree Scene reminded me of how important composition is in art, something I believe contemporary artists often ignore to their detriment. Art to me is firstly a visual experience and more often than not, if I’m not drawn in by the initial visual impact I will simply walk past it. The elegant flowing lines in this work makes it something I’d really enjoy in my home.
I love band photography and Liam Lynch does what I love very well indeed. Well known for his pictorial chronicles of Fokofpolisiekar, his images radiate the mad energy of youth culture – you just have to look at them and you’re there. Other photographers that I enjoyed were Roger Ballen and Jodie Bieder. Ballen is black and white, very emotive, contrasting images like the tiny, tiny puppy sleeping on old, gnarled human feet. Bieder in contrast is about bold defiance: the middle aged woman smoking sexy in her Truworths Skinny underwear and in all her post-children glory but so defiant with perfect hair and immaculate make-up, black street kids expressing individuality through punk culture. All Bieder’s work was in brash, full, glorious colour.
Next to Bieder and similar in attitude was Kudzanai Chiurai whose old school posters protested Mugabe’s Regime and who’s graf work spoke his mind: one read “When at war pussy is on discount.” which is a reality of war that evokes the most base emotion in me of rage, helplessness and defeating sadness. The imagery itself is well executed with colours complementing emotion. This is a man I really want on Moral Fibre.
If you don’t believe in coincidence then it won’t seem odd that just earlier this week I was reading a décor magazine where a featured personality recommended Olaf Bisschof as an artist to watch – and there he was and I was watching him – or his work rather – very intently. The talent of the man lies in his colours and incredible detail while maintaining larger than life imagery – it’s painstaking work and arresting for it.
The one piece of art I would have bought without blinking is called “The Invoice” and it’s by Avant Car Guard. The debtor on “The Invoice” is the art community are being invoiced for suffering through one bad art exhibition after another, crap press releases, nails on the chalk board arrogance etc. People who say what many of us are thinking – classic! Though if you look at their blog spot – they have their own brand of narcissism but whatever, it’s still a cool piece.
The bad news is that although the Johannesburg Art Fair alleges to have a well functioning website with a pictorial gallery, they’ve lied. And even the ones that were listed didn’t have all the art exhibited. They mostly have the uber famous listed and I of course chose to enphasise the young upstarts – aren’t they the ones that need the publicity? So alas although I thought that their images would be better than I could manage, it seems even I could have done better than the big void that Johannesburg Art Fair managed. This is the Johannesburg Art Fair, not the Rosebank rooftop for Heaven’s sake. Most international art houses have a full online catalogue – how did they manage to skip this essential part? Unless the tome they tried to sell at the entrance was supposed to be it and if that was the case, in my opinion it was a serious error in judgment by neglecting an obvious promotional tool that could have been assembled at little cost in a couple of days…so I’m harping but I think it’s justified.
Overall, the verdict is that I’ll definitely be back next year albeit with a camera 
Mar
2009
Oh my Lord! Vusi Beauchamp!
Vusi Beauchamp's "guts"
He did NOT?! You bet he did. Vusi Beauchamp is not a stirrer, he conducts an orchestra of stirring. Walking past the Obert gallery it is the bright colours with which his reinterpreted cartoons yells at you that stops you in your tracks. But when you see Coca-Cola font spelling out the word ‘coon‘, that is when you are floored. Maybe more so for me because as a white person it is drilled into you from a very young age that you do not use racist slang. And for those who don’t recognize it (it’s a British word, as an Afrikaans person I had never heard until I came into contact British-Kenyans) it’s akin to our ‘k’ word which, incidently, is what he entitled his co-authored comic book project – kaffirparadys. Oh.My.Lord. There is a Disney Cartoon version of Zuma and his umshini dancing next to the word ‘coon’. Jaw-drops-to-the-floor-FLOORED.
As I said, Vusi Beaucamp is provocative. Using mixed media on canvas – mostly spray paint stenciling, ink, acrylic - he provokes multi faceted emotion and thought while contradicting the stereo-type. But is it merely sensationalist? Is there depth to his blatant throwing of the fox into the chicken coup? Beaucamp’s work will probably fall into the ‘either you love it or you hate it category’ and I cannot deny that I’m partial to it. I was first drawn to walk across the street that night by the visual impact of his bright colours and interesting cartoons alone. It reminded me of a similar trend in Japanese art based on otaku culture (obsesive subcultures) which blew me away from the first. Commenting through cartoons has the same right hook BAM! that you get when you hear a small cherubic child say something like ‘my mommy is a rich bitch’ – you don’t know whether to laugh or roundly scold the toddler want in die mond van die suigeling en die dronkard sal jy die waarheid hoor (from the mouth of the suckling child and the drunkard you shall hear the truth). Or not depending on your opinion. In my mind, Beauchamp is clearly a brave man who speaks his thoug
Vusi Beauchamp's "brrr"
hts at a time when passions are running high before the most exciting election after 1994 in South African history. Like it or hate it, balls with a brain are always to be respected and so I salute a talented man; talent in conception and execution who knows how to achieve a maximum sensory impact. Look it could be because I’m an easily shocked middle-class whitey who enjoys being shocked. But maybe not; I’m pretty sure that it would get a rise out of most South Africans from every walk of life.
The exhibition officially opens at the Obert Gallery in Melrose Arch on the 12th of March and runs until the 31st of March 2009. Pop into the site for a closer look at Vusi Beauchamp the man and especially look at the interview by Fred De Vries for a peak into the melting kaleidoscope that is the mind behind the art.
Tags: Coca-Cola, Contemporary South African Art, Fred De Vries, ironic art, johannesburg, Melrose Arch, mixed media, Obert gallery, paint stenciling, political commentary, Smokin Cheese, social commentary, The Coca-Cola Company, Vusi Beauchamp
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