Volume 6

aesthetikselektor

BOOK

Vl.6

“The purpose of pain is to get our attention that something is wrong, protect us from further damage and to request care. It’s in this sense that a little bit of pain is a good thing.”

— Backxwash, PURPOSE OF PAIN

I remember calling this phase the awkward becoming... learning self-acceptance and experiencing a transition in purpose alignment. About 80% of the things I’d planned for fell through, but at the same time this has been a consistently great year. So why continue to tap into the big sad just to produce a pontent issue?

Pain, though often unbearable, is not without its lessons, and is perhaps one of the oldest catalysts to growth. The apparent flow of this yearbook is one that shines light on this duality; where pain simultaneously brings us tremendous grief through stories of loss, and pleasurable outcomes in the lessons and rebirth.

Remnants of past trauma revisit in the heat of present difficulties to show us that we’ve been through this before, and to help us remember how we got through it. In essence, pain is a teacher.

EDITORIAL

The Year Book Class of 2022

Qaphile Langa Editor-in-Chief

Immortalizing Great Taste ®

Mummy “Madikotsi” Khumalo

The culmination of her work is deeply rooted in spiritual purpose, so much so that she feels the prefix of “professional” to “fine artist” in her case is meaningless, and instead views her skills as a gift and her work as the fulfillment of purpose.

Seza Zitha

With his parents often in and out of the country, he’d been tasked to take care of his younger siblings, assuming responsibility at a very young age. Couple that with the tragedy of loss and a house fire, and you get a journey of renewal and rebirth.

Sifiso Mkhabela

Sifiso Mkhabela is a multidisciplinarian in the truest sense of the word, surrendering to his creative potential in a way that builds keen anticipation for what is next.

Cover Story

Lebohang Sithole

Page 30

The Ghetto is notoriously known for it’s negative impact on society. I seek to tell a different story where I dig deep into the heart of the Ghetto and expose all untold stories that turn an infamous fairy tale into a soothing piece worthy of being called a lullaby.

Phanuel Shivambu

Page 14

Phanuel’s work gives you enough room to gradually interrogate everything you think you know about what’s framed before you. It’s quite an interesting dynamic in which the subject (the art itself) makes you the subject. The artwork almost becomes the facilitator of your self-examination.

Page 54

When walls weren’t enough, his Grandmother inadvertently provided one of the most pivotal turning points in his creative journey, although he did not yet know it at the time. His grandmother weaved together traditional grass straw mats otherwise known as Xitheve which are typically used for sleeping; Fumani, on the other hand, adapted these mats as his artistic outlet..

The Year Book

Victor Kuster

One of Victors’ strengths lies in his approach in how he presents his subject matter, defining this style as “hyper surrealism portraiture in a surreal form.” This style is seen in the vivid detail of his sketches.

“These are not refugees. These are my living brothers, living mothers, children, and elders. They are struggling to raise their voice, so I would like to deliver their voices.”

Walter Maluleke

Seza Zitha

By Kgosietsile Leburu

“I chose to fuse my life with the cat’s life, combining the cat face with my body to depict that I was still able to come to life and produce new work. The 9 lives of a cat portray my creativity.”

cats always land their feet on

The CAT with 9 lives.

2018,

backroom at home

Originally born in Mozambique, Seza Zitha grew up in the East of Johannesburg, South Africa, where he discoverd himself as a fine artist. With his parents often in and out of the country, he’d been tasked to take care of his younger siblings, assuming responsibility at a very young age. Couple that with the tragedy of loss and a house fire, and you get a journey of renewal and rebirth.

Seza’s creative pursuit began as a passing of the baton, being heavily inspired by his late older brother who was also an artist.

The alternatives ,namely graphic and fashion design, were also an unsuprisingly hard sell due to the finacial impllications. Seza eventually fixed up a studio space in his own yard where he would also run an art teaching programme for the children in his community. In 2017 he heard about Artist Proof Studio through a peer and joined to learn and master printmaking techniques.

Everything seemed to be going well as Seza was pursuing art at APS and beginning to establish a career. An event which occurred in 2018 changed the direction and course of his art. “In 2018, the backroom at home that I was using to work was set on fire. Everything got burnt and I lost the identity of who was in my work before that fire.”

It was not long until he found solace in the arts, teaching himself and getting inspiration from masters like Pablo Picasso and JeanMichel Basquiat. For some time art was seen, in his household, as a hobby and something that could sustain him as a career.

“Where

come from,

make money out of it. [My] family always thought art was a hobby.”

“I took it as a gift that was passed on, I took that and carried on practicing.”

I

they don’t think you can

“In

the

that I was using to work was set on fire. Everything got burnt and I lost the identity of who I was in my work before that fire.”

By Kgosietsile Leburu

The Cat with 9 lives Seza Zitha

Unfortunately, that accident destroyed the work he produced — artworks that mostly focused on social issues that he related to being the eldest son in his household facing hardships providing for the family when there’s low streams of income. The experience, as tragic as one can imagine, meant new ventures and concepts were going to be pursued. That fire did not only destroy his work, but rebirthed a new artist and a new identity.

When we view his current work, the obvious subjects is cats... specifically, the personification of cats by giving them a human body. Seza explains this new concept as fusing himself with the characteristics of a cat and creating a new world within his art.

“I chose to fuse my life with the cat’s life, combining the cat face with my body to depict that I was still able to come to life and produce new work. The 9 lives of a cat portray my creativity.”

Seza grew up always having a cat, and was deeply fascinated at how they behaved in their spaces and always found the most comfortable seat in the house to lay. This would greatly influence the environment created in each of his pieces as he sought to create his own world. Understanging the healing properties of water and its connection with spirituality, it became another important symbol in his work. Complemented by vibrant colour and a fish which is a representation of his significant other, Seza creates a paradise away from the noise of the world.

“In my work, there’s my comfort space, moving away from this reality to the world that I created through infusing pop art and surrealism.”

Although surreal, Seza still finds ways to add in real lived experiences, creating meaning in his symbolism. Having gone through so much, his work is quite personal to him. It has helped him find healing and ultimately a purpose through a promising career. One might say that identifying with the cat has given him the liberty of constant rediscovery and the reassurance that he will always land on his feet.

“My work shows my journey and how I’ve changed myself for the better, because if we want to change others, it’s best we start changing ourselves.”

Photographed by Qaphile Langa. 2022© @chamaeleonq

Phanuel Shivambu

By Markan Andreas Nkhwazi

“When you’re able to say you are grateful for an experience, you are truly privileged.”

A Farmer of Self.

By Markan Andreas Nkhwazi

Farming self to refrain from self and reframe self.

Late afternoon traffic punctuated the conversation Phanuel Shivambu and I were having on the balcony of his recently acquired studio space, one that is nearly as old as his career as a professional fine artist— nearly six months and counting. He complemented his words with one of the warmest smiles I’ve ever seen, buried beneath a well-kept beard. And that’s a feature of his that never really leaves his face, the smile, that is. Although a case can be made for the beard too.

My colleague made some more camera adjustments, placing Phanuel squarely in his line of sight, which prompted him to grace us with another pose. It was an easygoing affair that gave our conversation enough room to breathe, and I’m glad it did because Phanuel’s following words touched me dearly.

“When you’re able to say you’re grateful for an experience, you are truly privileged.”

You’re privileged to express your experience. One of many powerful insights from his repository of wisdom. And indeed, there was an abundance, the sort of harvest you partake in through patient intent— sitting and listening closely. Honestly, I got around to very little note-taking throughout our session. I didn’t want to skip a beat…

Reaping & Sowing

Although Phanuel Shivambu has planted himself in many genres and creative domains, his roots can be traced back to Bushbuckridge, where he was born and raised. It was during his school-going days that his ears were first attuned to the soundscapes of Dancehall and its esteemed predecessor, Reggae. Coco describes these two primary genres as the major catalysts in his tenure as a musician. He wanted to emulate as many elements of the genres into his own music.

He even went as far as trying to hop the language barrier and superimpose Jamaican Patois onto his own spoken languages. This is critical because it was in learning the lyrics of his favourite jams that he realised poetry was at the heart of the music. Thus inspiring his journey into writing.

Coco’s writing in its fully realised form was a gift that he suddenly woke up to one day, and although it required subsequent attempts, he found that he could refine and redefine his voice as a writer the more he poured his time and soul into it. Although the specific intricacies of the day cannot be brought to mind, he does recall how it allowed him to carve out a niche within the realm of poetry that he performed extensively– Dark Poetry. A genre he infuses with traits of his beloved Reggae against the backdrop of a vast array of topics. He takes care to distinguish his style of poetry from what might spring to mind first, as he put it, “It wasn’t slam poetry. I wasn’t slamming.” It was a powerful outlet for his passion as a creative person, as he fondly recalls it. A passion that far trumped the appeal of academics or sports.

That’s not to say he didn’t dabble in either of those domains. However, his commitment was undoubtedly measured. For instance, a local football club dubbed the Burning Hill Sundowns occupied him at some point in his youth, but his time there was short lived, clocking in at about a little over two years. Coco admits that it was a reasonable enough use of his time. Still, he muchpreferred the freedom afforded by creative pursuits like writing or making music with his Marimba band or his non-commercial 5-piece band in which he played rhythm and handled lead vocals. “All those years of football, well, it felt like I was burning,” he laughed as he deliveredhis frustrations in the vehicle of a pun.

to grow”

It would bring me no shortage of joy to line the length of this entry with plenty of other tales from Coco’s youth but the theme that underpins the aforementioned accounts is one of harnessing creative potential. In each instance, Phanuel cultivated a sense of self-awareness that allowed him to snuff out the flames of fear and selfdoubt. And in so doing, he made way for the life–giving waters of creative potential that reside in all of us to nurture the seeds he had been sowing in his various artistic domains.

all about energy conversion”

By converting and channelling his creative energy he has been able to segue seamlessly into the world of Abstract Art as a professional fine artist.

Cultivating potential— Farming Self.

“It was not enough for me. I had

Photographed by Qaphile Langa. 2022© @chamaeleonq

“It’s

An answer might just melt away, but why do questions last?

Upon careful reflection, I’ve concluded that I’m not particularly fond of questions that demand an answer. I’m drawn to questions that lead to more questions. Why? So that I can simply be swamped by the enormity of everything I don’t know? No, I’m not a masochist. Instead, it returns me to the approach I had in childhood, where I approached uncertainty with a gradual interrogation.

Phanuel’s work gives you enough room to gradually interrogate everything you think you know about what’s framed before you. It’s quite an interesting dynamic in which the subject (the art itself) makes you the subject. The artwork almost becomes the facilitator of your self-examination, where seemingly familiar visual elements throughout the piece act as prompts for you to question your own cognitive biases. Coco is more than delighted to lay the foundations of this phenomenon in each of his works, seeing as his main interest now is to investigate how cognitive biases operate to ultimately help shape meaning and value.

As such, Coco offers us an invitation, one that implores us to draw away from the enticing allure of self-assurance, the sort that underpins statements such as: I am free or I know x,y,c and a, b, three.

Cognitive Bypass

In the final stretch of our interview, Coco became increasingly more animated as he gestured toward the largest piece in the room whilst simultaneously drawing our attention to the traditional, cultural and religious biases that inconspicuously inform our thinking, more often than not. In his eyes, Abstract Art provides a favourable vantage point from which he can witness the civil war that seems to ensue when one’s conclusions are called (or dragged) into question in the battle theatre of one’s mind.

“I’m interested in the mind and its struggles as a thinking system…”

“People prefer their sources of information to be highly correlated. Then all the messages you get are consistent with each other and you’re comfortable.”

— Daniel Kahneman

Reaping & Sowing

When I laid my eyes on his work, I found that I would often rush into the embrace of familiarity which would give me a false sense of certainty. I’d find myself falling prey to a barrage of questions that seemed to undermine my conclusions at every step.

Knowing that this was the intention of the artist does help soften the blow of realising that critical thinking (and critiquing your thinking) is indeed a journey and not so much a destination. And as with all journeys, a first step is all that’s needed and perhaps we can get some major mileage once we bypass the certainty that characterises our assumptions; concerning our fears and our potential. In a lot of ways it loops back to his core tenet of Farming Self— a process that can’t begin until you grow in your self-awareness. It then follows that Abstract Art was fated to enter Coco’s life at some point or the other because I earnestly believe that his segue into abstract art is a culmination of Farming Self. Speaking of journeys, I’m looking forward to seeing how far Coco will expand his horizon. What sort of artistic domains will he cultivate in the years to come?

I earnestly believe that his segue into abstract art is a culmination of Farming Self.

“Why this assortment of colours, does red indicate passion or rage here?”

“Is that a twisted steel bar? No, that can’t be; far from it.”

“That looks like a face. Maybe I can start there?”

“That’s a woman, right?”

Curated personas and the price of baby pictures.

By Qaphile Langa

We’re suddenly caught in the misery of falling for people who live quite far from us, and this is really a consequence of using social media as a reference point for potential suitors.

The even bigger tragedy is buying into a falsely curated persona, on a platform that really allows you to be almost whoever you want to be. Beyond filtershow often do we question the authenticity of people’s opinions, lifestyles, and occupations?

Unspoken rules create a certain culture on social media that unifies us in monotony and imitation... and so a lot of us are just doing what others do on social media, only letting the best parts of who we are find their way to the platform.

It’s not that it’s not you, but it’s most likely a small fraction of who you truly are.

Much like the subjectivity of right or wrong, this isn’t the lost cause that the word “tragedy” suggests. In my rather tedious entreprenual pursuit, I’ve come to realize the incredible marketing opportunity that comes with “being yourself.”

Beyond the awe we find in things we cannot do ourselves, we look for relatability and relevance in every post. So the more we “humanise” our brands and begin to communicate not just our products, but also the process of production, we allow for further engagement and perhaps even answer questions that the audience didn’t know they had.

So amidst the routine spamming of your flawless product, sharing your shortcomings taps into that relatability and builds a familiarity with your audience. You’re curating a persona which offers truth, a face/ voice behind the product. You’re building trust.

Given the appropriate context, posting a picture of yourself as a baby may triple your profit margin.

Mummy Khumalo

By Qaphile Langa

In the world they will say it’s legacy, but for me it’s something that I was here for. So I’ve played my part and I’m grateful that I did.”

Mummy Madikotsi Khumalo

Having set up my camera in her studio, I stood immersed in the space between the physical and spiritual realm; experiencing this duality in the artworks hung on the walls like portals to different worlds. Though rather ominous at first, the figures in the paintings began to invite me into the art, and I started to carefully study its intricacies as I waited to begin the interview. In our initial acquaintance, we couldn’t help bring up the weather cliche as a storm nearly prevented our meeting. The conversation that ensued came as an affirmation that I was exactly where I needed to be.

Equipped with great ambition and a burning passion for art, Mummy attempted a seemigly impossible task by enrolling at Artist Proof Studio whilst pursuing entrepreneural studies at the Vaal University of Technology. This task would prove incredibly daunting as she faced many clashes in her schedule, and one simply had to go.

Originally from the Vaal Triangle in Sebokeng Zone 7, Mummy Khumalo moved to Soweto in 2020 to practice fine art. She had been artistically inclined from a young age, often confusing her family in that girls in her community could not even be imagined having a passion for drawing. Citing a memory from her high school years, Mummy recalls a time her skilss were firrst on demand.

“We had to decorate our own portfolios for the different subjects, and so because I knew how to draw, it was an easy way to make money. I would draw for the other kids and they would give me 50 cents or one rand in exchange.”

“I wanted to educate myself. I knew that education is key — you need to know something so that you can get something for yourself in the future. But then there was this art which I loved so much, and I decided to drop out of entrepreneurship to come this side as an artist.”

“My work comes as some sort of balance between the physical and the spiritual.”

Photographed by Qaphile Langa. 2022© @chamaeleonq

In Between Two Worlds

“Meditation is something that I’ve learnt to do through my work. I meditate to address things that are happening around me.

We recieve blessings in each and every day of our lives, but we are caught up with things which we think matter — physical things. We bring our past with us a often, and this prevents us from growing.

This piece is me in between two worlds, the physical and the spiritual [world]... and I’m calling for peace, it’s time for peace.”

The hour glass is a symbol of time, and peace is depicted in the hand gesture of the blue water creature. When I asked about the striking eyeballs, Mummy spoke of omnipresence of her ancestors and how they watch over her, protecting her from people with ill intent. This ironically made me feel some pride in that I am worthy of this space and I am exactly where I have to be; absorbing the message of a time for peace after a long year.

Feature Mummy Khumalo

Immortalizing Great Taste

As big as the decision was to drop out of the Vaal University, Mummy was far from being ill-informed as she had received some training — taking art lessons in Potchefstroom given by a very talented and generous female artist from Cuba.

“She taught me the elements and principles of art, so I’m very grateful for that. When I got to Artist Proof Studio, I already knew a lot of the basics — how to draw, and how to do other things. But I wanted to learn more.”

Before her eventual settling into the buzzing heart of the Johannesburg CBD at Asisebenze Art Atelier, what she would also find was guidance and strengthening in her spirituality and an even deeper connection to her art in her stay in Soweto. Mummy Khumalo’s art style began to take form in a message that brings one closer to self-acceptance and the abundant freedom in flowing with the water.

“In most of my pieces I am naked, because I come as real as I am. I’m becoming free enjoying myself as a black person, and as a water person.”

The culmination of her work is deeply rooted in spiritual purpose, so much so that she feels the prefix of “professional” to “fine artist” in her case is meaningless, and instead views her skills as a gift and her work as the fulfillment of purpose.

“I already know what I’m going to leave behind. In the world they will say it’s legacy, but for me it’s something that I was here for. So I’ve played my part and I’m grateful that I did.”

Photographed by Qaphile Langa. 2022© @chamaeleonq

maybe we all from water. come

A Body of Water

Cover Story

By Kgosietsile Leburu

“I am taking how I feel now and showing it to the viewer, so they can feel what I am feeling. I am placing my current emotions on the child.”

LEBOHANG SITHOLE

Lebohang Sithole

By Kgosietsile Leburu

“I am taking how I feel now and showing it to the viewer, so they can feel what I am feeling. I am placing my current emotions on the child.”

A Ghetto Lullaby

By now you’re more understanding of art as a way to immortalize one’s experiences, a form of meditation, and to some an open channel to the spiritual dimension. Art is an expressive tool which our cover artist, Lebohang Sithole, recognizes as a universal language of the soul. Growing up in the townships of Katlehong and Orange Farm, his work is a reflection of his childhood.

The story I would find as I continued to probe was a brief yet emotionally heavy reflection of the year 2022. I sat in naive expectation as I waited for him to summarize his experience. In a year filled with tremendous upheaval, Lebohang was faced with the loss of his father. Returning to his studio at 28 Plein Street, Johannesburg, away from his family, he found himself in a slump of uncertainty.

Art is an opportunity for Lebohang to explore that innocence, finding freedom of expression in creating, and comparing it to the freedom he experienced in his childhood. Drawing heavily from his own experiences, he portrays children during play. However, where one expects to see a smile, many of Lebang’s portraits are plastered with blank anticipation, like the face of a child glaring out of a classroom window wishing they were somewhere else. The recurring subject matter, although not so obviously communicated, comes across as a plea for freedom from a man shackled by the grief and responsibility of adulthood.

Pain is something we often avoid, yet it plays a significant role in fostering wisdom and strength. Though heavy a lesson, it is one that Lebohang took a lot of learning and growing from, understanding the value of time spent with loved ones and letting go of the false sense of control. One of his highlights was a joint exhibition he had in October, aptly titled Living Expression, which helped him channel his grief and rediscover his love, not just for the craft, but for life itself.

“I’ve enjoyed my youth more than my adulthood. A child does not know what is right or wrong — they do what they feel is right.”

“I am taking how I feel now and showing it to the viewer, so they can feel what I am feeling. I am placing my current emotions on the child.”

“It’s like things were going well throughout these years, and 2022 just taught me another side of life.”

“That show healed me. I was expressing myself. That pain will make you grow mentally and emotionally, because now you’re starting to learn things in a different way.”

the children will be free always

A Ghetto Lullaby

Cover Story

A Ghetto Lullaby

The development of his portrature style comes from his mother selling charcoal when he was younger. Art has been a part of Lebohang Sithole’s life from a very young age, teaching himself charcoal sketching while hearing stories of the artistic escapades of his late grandfather who was a jazz musician.

In a story that so vividly hints at reincarnation, I found more reassurance in the sentiment of art being a channel of communcation with the spiritual realm. Lebohang’s work began to feel like a form of guidance to the youth; the blank anticipation in the facial expressions signalling tough times ahead. In all it’s subtlety, the message was not to take freedom for granted. I like to think that beyond giving him the gift of art, Lebohang’s grandfather was with him throughout his childhood — allowing him the freedom to live out his innocence in every artwork, and offering a space for healing in doing what he loves.

Pain, though often unbearable, is not without its lessons, and is perhaps one of the oldest catalysts to growth. Lebohang Sithole experienced an emotionally demanding year which, through tragedy, made him a stronger person and an even wiser artist. An identity through art is determined by consistency in style, something that Lebohang has been careful not to compromise.

Photographed by Qaphile Langa. 2022© @chamaeleonq

“I was born on the day my grandfather passed on, so I believe I have a strong connection to him — despite never meeting or spending time with him.” “I feel his presence when I touch his instruments or look at his pictures.”

“I do not want my work to be too emotional, I want it to be consistent. I do not want the experiences of this year to influence my art.”

The Ghetto is notoriously known for it’s negative impact on society. I seek to tell a different story where I dig deep into the heart of the Ghetto and expose all untold stories that turn an infamous fairy tale into a soothing piece worthy of being called a lullaby.

A Product of CHAMAELEON COLLECTION (Pty) Ltd. 2022©

Sifiso Mkhabela

By Qaphile Langa

“Each and every artist is equipped with all the different techniques and the different mediums, but it essentially comes down to how far they are willing to push it.”

the industrial arts

I’ve often wondered how much an individual would have to accomplish to be recognized as a multidisciplinarian - and not in the “I just drew this cool doodle so I’m also an artist now” kind of way, but exhibiting mastery in various fields. Inside his studio, Sifiso Mkhabela boasts countless sketches of intricate shapes and figures which already look like finished art pieces, but I would soon find out they are merely part of a longer process as ideas for what will eventually become metal sculptures.

“I was a hands-on kid... I was creative. I could make things with wire.”

As a boiler maker, Sifiso’s father influenced him greatly in the skills of metalwork, but the discovery of fine art came much later in his life when Sifiso would enrol at Thswane University of Technology for graphic design. In his early days of campus life he remembered being introduced to sculpting, which triggered the memories of his childhood making cars out of pieces of wire. He was moved enough to completely change his career path to fine art.

“It was something that I did naturally as a kid, but I never knew what it was.”

As a challenge to the naysayers who so boldly claim that they could do what he does, Sifiso begins to list the intricate processes involved in producing just one of his pieces.

“Each and every artist is equipped with all the different techniques and the different mediums, but it essentially comes down to how far they are willing to push it.”

From the digital domain, he manipulates images in photoshop which he took himself for references, creating blueprints of figures with straight lines and obvious details. In his latest experiment making portraits using rubber tubing, he then defines figures on a canvas with charcoal outlines, creating a guide for where the tubing will be glued on. Without a 3D printer, Sifiso painstakingly cuts pieces of the rubber to the required shapes to fill the outlines and emphasize the detail. Once the pieces are stuck onto the canvas, it is time to add colour, to which painting is another skill in his toolbox. As a new medium, a lot of his recent artworks are exploratory, but the artistic intuition from years of practice is evident. You simply cannot do what he does.

“I don’t like to put myself in a box and say that I’m a figurative artist, or a portrait or landscape artist. I like to do everything all at once.”

A statement he makes driving the point of his own creative potential and the limitations of time and resources. For someone who already runs a furniture manufacturing business, Sifiso wishes he could do printmaking, ceramics, observational drawing, and even textile design. His interest in the aforementioned disciplines comes from his studies at TUT where he received formal training in a variety of art fields before specializing in sculpture.

Even his newly found style of portraiture dates back to his second year of his studies where he got introduced to the recycled rubber material in a project aptly titled “Turning nothing into something.”

“What resonated more with me with the tube is that most of them have a history. Some of them have been through accidents. And I’m trying to change their whole meaning by creating something beautiful out of that trauma.”

“A portrait is something we can all relate to. I mean, the first thing you see when you normally meet a person is their face.”

Industrial Arts

By Qaphile Langa

Sifiso Mkhabela

Industrial arts often involve the use of hand, power, or mechanical tools, and in Sifiso’s case, the sourcing of scarce or expensive material. The process is long and demanding on all aspects such as creative energy in doing research and cultivating an idea, and also fitness to asisst in handling heavy material or equipment.

“Just one artwork can take up to three months to finish.”

School has played a pivotal role in broadening Sifiso’s understanding of the art industry, with the introduction to several disciplines, art history, and the intricate processes of materializing an idea. In all the stories of his artistic endeavours with colleagues such as Blessing Ngobeni, having a studio at August House, in Maboneng, and even Constitution Hill, I couldn’t help get the sense that he had been a different person each time and exploring different phases in his evolution as an artist.

Sifiso Mkhabela is a multidisciplinarian in the truest sense of the word, surrendering to his creative potential in a way that builds keen anticipation for what is next.

“I don’t like to put myself in a box and say that I’m a figurative artist, or a portrait or landscape artist. I like to do everything all at once.”

Victor Kuster

By Kgosietsile Leburu

“My work is about social political issues based on oppression, depression and modern slavery.”

Tales of Modern Slavery

By Kgosietsile Leburu

Victor Kuster

Another warm and restless day in Jozi was spent in conversation with Victor Kuster. A visual artist whose studio resides in plein street Johannesburg. Our afternoon was spent in his art residency, observing his pieces on the white walls of a well-lit room. His most consistent medium in the works present in his studio are Charcoal sketches on large scale brown paper, as well as blue pastel. One of Victors’ strengths lies in his approach in how he presents his subject matter, defining this style as “hyper surrealism portraiture in a surreal form.” This style is seen in the vivid detail of his sketches. Having taken a moment to absorb and digest his work, we got to sit down with him to learn the artist behind the pieces and also get a different lens of his work where meaning, idea, depth, and personal expression lie.

oppression, depression and modern slavery.”

Through his visuals he tells these stories on issues the world is facing using charcoal, paint, printmaking, and pastel.

“The brown paper represents the universe, the blue representing the modern slavery, as a metaphor for the blue worksuits of our fathers and mothers.”

Victor elaborated further on the blue, coming from a family where his father worked in a blue suit, both his parents passing on at an early age in his life, set the tone for his path forward.

“My father died wearing the blue suit. He was a king at home. He was the head of the household, but he left me with his debts and scars of this world.”

“My work is about social political issues based on

Photographed by Qaphile Langa. 2022© @chamaeleonq

The blues has been a recurring spirit in his life and it’s the same spirit that leaves a noticeable mark on his portraits. The mark connecting us to our work, the world, our bondage, modern slavery. Expressive lines and dots make up the figures “Dots represent all of us, we are the dots. The lines are the roads we travel, for a man does not die he travels geometrically.”

He identified his desire to create at an early age, drawing sketches and selling his works at school. He sold his first ever art piece at age 7 for 5 cents to one of his classmates. Seeing his great foremother by the name of Deborah Kuster use cow dung (Ubulongwe benkomo) to draw roses on her walls, also assisted.

“These are not refugees (pointing to all his large-scale papers), these are my living brothers, living mothers, children, and elders. They are struggling to raise their voice, so I would like to deliver their voices.”

“I have no challenges as an artist. I will not go forward if I dwell in my challenges.”

Victor does not take long to put forward this statement, believing he will not face challenges as an artist and has not because there are so many people on earth. Humility and grace are what Victor Kuster offers, assuring us that if we need anything, that we can come to him.

“This is our world; we are here together. Do not worry, your eyes are open, you have everything you need. I cannot build this ark alone, let us build the ark together.”

“These are not refugees. These are my living brothers, living mothers, children, and elders. They are struggling to raise their voice, so I would like to deliver their voices.”

Giving a voice to the voiceless.

— Victor Kuster

Photographed by Qaphile Langa. 2022© @chamaeleonq

“Send greetings from me to another world. Deliver what I am sharing with the entire world. Let them hear the voices of South Africa and the world. Deliver peace, and my precious work of visual arts. Read the images and let the Images give you the voices I am delivering.”

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Your Past Is Your Fingerprint

By Markan Andreas Nkhwazi

Fumani Walter Maluleke

“Don’t respect the medium; let the medium respect you,” Fumani added after giving us a preview of his creative process or, perhaps more faithfully, his creative performance. He set the knife he’d used on the ‘canvas’ aside and wiped some paint from his person, all the while sharing precious insights into each of the pieces that adorned his studio. It was a pleasant way to pass the time while we waited for the acrylic paint on his latest piece to dry before tackling it again for the third time.

Where it all began

The village of Thomo in Giyani, Limpopo moulded Fumani Water Maluleke into the celebrated artist he is today through the various opportunities and challenges it offered him. For one, the Creative Spirit brought him immeasurable joy for every bit of struggle that it invited into his early years. It was a force that took hold of him from as far back as the third grade but one whose grasp could not easily be contained. That is to say; he had no conventional creative avenues through which he could express himself. Using his math exercise books was one of the only ways he could remedy this. He’d do this until days turned into weeks, turned into months and before he knew it, the year had breathed its last, and to the dismay of his teachers and Mother, he had to try his hand at third grade once more for his creative pursuits had trumped out his academic commitments. He progressed through each grade more assuredly this time, but so did his artistic prowess.

When books weren’t enough, he turned to the walls his mother tirelessly worked on to adorn with decorative paint. As you can imagine, this caused his mother much grief; having to chip and scrape away at drawings of Goku and all manner of Pokémon day in and day out. He just couldn’t help it.

When walls weren’t enough, his Grandmother inadvertently provided one of the most pivotal turning points in his creative journey, although he did not yet know it at the time. His grandmother weaved together traditional grass straw mats otherwise known as Xitheve which are typically used for sleeping; Fumani, on the other hand, adapted these mats as his artistic outlet. He would dress the mats up with a bunch of drawings etched with charcoal. Come morning time, the drawings would be no more. Scarcely an issue because he’d just go at it again…

Several years as a professional artist in the field had finally placed him in a position that would require him to make a decision on how best to leave his fingerprint on the art industry. As he put it, “I asked myself how could I be distinguished from other artists?” And so he turned to the grass straw mat— his past; his upbringing; his experience.

Photographed by Qaphile Langa. 2022© @chamaeleonq

Xitheve

By Markan Andreas Nkhwazi

I am because of others.

I recall how that part of the interview brought a fond smile to his face as he looked back on that moment— he attributes that signature style to his Grandmother. A tribute that falls neatly under his mission statement to ‘Embrace our Women’. One look is all it takes to see that ethos embodied, seeing as women feature prominently in his work, not just as subjects that adorn the surface of each canvas but as tangible contributors as well, in that the canvases themselves are grass mats sourced from his community. If it’s not community, it’s the generations that preceded him. For instance, he shared a vision he once had in a dream where all he could remember was a pulse of electricity leading off into the distance, symbolising how, “The generations before us want to give us energy.” And it’s safe to say he’s channelling it the best way he knows how.

Around The Corner, There’s Always Something Waitin’ For Ya!

That said, Fumani’s journey since first pursuing art professionally has been underscored with its own set of travails too. He detailed a time when he had to brave the ensuing onslaught of a storm with one of his sons because selling art along the road was one of the only ways he could get by in his early years or how, as recently as 2022, his travel arrangements for an esteemed New York event where his work would be exhibited were unfortunately thwarted by visa complications (twice in one year!). Or even how his teaching career also marked a difficult time in his life. A time when he’d return from work, sapped of the energy he would otherwise have committed to his art. He detailed how his art production was at an all-time low. It was as though that period of lack was paramount to torture. This drought in terms of art production even led established investors, collectors and even his own followers to leave in droves because they’d lost trust in him ever really returning to the industry.

In spite of these grievances, each time he recounted his experiences, it never really sounded like an ‘ending-off’ point or some sort of tragic conclusion in the Saga of Fumani Walter Maluleke’s life. And not just because he’d survived and lived to tell us the tale. I could tell this was something he understood even then. It’s as though he was treating his struggles as bookmarks in the chapters of his life, points from which the story would continue.

Fumani Walter Maluleke

By Markan Andreas Nkhwazi

“Do art, not just because you want to sell, do art because that’s you!”

Your Past Is Your Fingerprint

By Markan Andreas Nkhwazi

What I truly adore is how his art is a direct reflection of his past, a tangible reflection. It feels good to say that out loud, finally. More often than not, these kinds of assertions rest solely in the realm of exaggeration, like the stuff you’d hear from a downon-his-luck salesman trying to cheat you out of your money. When I say that in Fumani’s case, art and artist are one and the same, that his experience and expression are synonymous or that his pieces are a direct trip down memory lane, I mean it. I’m not trying to sell an idea but rather direct attention toward a defining statement in his work, one that reads something like, “I am where I am because of where I come from.” There’s certainly a lesson to be found here about acknowledging the past.

Music hung about the air serving as a pleasant background for the work we were about to witness. This sonic veil was occasionally pierced by some kind of alarm system, but it was hard to take notice of it as Fumani prepared himself for what was yet to come— it was pretty ritualistic. He mixed an assortment of paint together as well-lit candles towered over his art supplies; art is a spiritual exercise to him, and the candles help accentuate that. After mixing the various paints to his liking, he set them on the floor about a metre or so from a grass mat hanging on the wall. It had been empty when we arrived, and I had assumed it would remain that way for a while after our interview. But I was wrong on two fronts; he was going to invite us to watch the canvas transform into a painting after the formal interview had been completed, but more importantly, the grass straw mat was never empty; that unique canvas of his possessed his creative vision. It was hanging there, and we just couldn’t see it (yet) the same way air does.

I’m definitely not saying we should stay there, but if we are to linger on the past, then it should be on those moments when our creative urges made all sorts of seemingly absurd demands on us, the sort that bordered on freedom of expression despite our dire circumstances whether it was the powers that be pressing down on us, the lack of equipment or encouragement, little to no studio time or even claustrophobic career prospects/ expectations or <insert personal obstacles here>

Whatever it was that sought to stunt our creative progress all those years ago is worth reflecting on; as a way to give ourselves credit for carrying on anyway and as an invaluable (re)source of inspiration. “Don’t let your past define you,” a lamentation we’ve heard time and again, but perhaps it’s about time we do.

As my Dad always says, “Look forward, glance at the past, look forward.”

He experiments with aspects of his experience, and the results are phenomenal.

“You can’t see them, but they are there. Unseen things are still there.”

— Misuzu Kaneko, Are You an Echo?: The Lost Poetry of Misuzu Kaneko

Xitheve

By Markan Andreas Nkhwazi

He stared at the mat a little longer, as though in careful meditation, and then set to work. Within a minute or so, clouds began to form against the backdrop of a darkened sky as his paintbrush travelled across the canvas. In between working, he’d mix some more paint, shake the bottle, and then proceed to the canvas again. I recorded in amazement and figured I’d get some shots of the rest of his studio to spice my video up whilst I waited for him to mix some more paint; I turned for about 17 seconds, a regrettable act on my part. By the time the camera panned back to Fumani, the painting was covered in fresh white streaks of paint, signalling the next phase was in progress. I laughed at myself, realising that I’d have to learn patience and discipline before ever making my directorial debut. This minor hiccup aside, I was glad I had my camera trained on him for the next part.

It’s funny how even upon my initial arrival, my eyes would fall upon the mop that was laid up against the art supplies and paintbrush set, but it never really occurred to me that it wasn’t some misplaced decoration. It turns out his mop is just another paintbrush— one that has featured quite extensively in many of his other pieces. This eccentricity is what I’d call an apt reflection of his upbringing— he excels in bending convention to his will.

His mop is just another paintbrush.

The makeshift tool was cut right down the middle (a humble guesstimate on my part or creative liberty?) so that it was nearly as long as his arm. The height was perfect, allowing reasonable flexibility. He’d grab hold with both hands, aim, lunge and then make adjustments after each ‘stroke’. Most would land on the grass mat with a couple of strays here and there. Even then, all the paint splatter and overshot strokes on the wall around the mat more than delighted him, as evidenced by his exuberance, toothy smile and finally, his wish: to have the wall accompany the piece so that it can be displayed together as an art installation. He felt that would be a great way to fully convey the craziness of it all.

Measured chaos.

It didn’t stop there, though. Fumani grabbed the knife once more after he’d determined that the paint had indeed dried and got to working again. He lacerated the lower half of the grass straw mat to emulate actual grass, the sort that often characterises rural landscapes back home. This is his way of elevating texture to the 3D plane. The incisions were as deliberate as those that dressed the adjacent piece. I sort of see it as a full-circle moment because witnessing this creative performance sort of answers half of the questions you might have had for the rest of the pieces in the studio as your eyes try to adjust to all the measured chaos.

– Fumani Walter Maluleke

This is the authenticity of ‘CRAZY’

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