Leigh Voigt - Trees by Everard Read Gallery

Leigh Voigt TR E ES

Leigh Voigt

The Recollections of a Dendrogenealogist

TREES The Recollections of a Dendrogenealogist

Leigh Voigt TREES

The Recollections of a Dendrogenealogist

WHITE RIVER ART GALLERY 27 February – 25 March 2010 WILLIAM HUMPHREYS ART GALLERY 11–30 March 2010 EVERARD READ 29 April – 23 May 2010

Introduction mark read

Ishlahla, umti, sefate, motlhare, setlhare, muti, nsinya, boom, tree. To the people of our nation, this simple word stimulates our neural pathways in an extraordinary

for some rough bark and a fortuitous low limb when they contrived to escape the attentions of an outraged mega-herbivore.

diversity of ways. The impulses that flicker through

In the far distant past we came down from the

our cortex when we are confronted with the word

trees – those lofty sanctuaries where we could

‘tree’, or indeed the object itself, result in a collec-

cringe together at night away from the eyes of

tion of emotions that hint at, perhaps more than any

night stalkers. Without trees, those sparse-haired

other single word, the circumstances within which

and small-jawed australopithecines could not have

we live.

survived. And had they not, earth today would be a

A tree is a cool island with sweetened air beneath

vastly different planet.

which a hot traveller may rest. The same miraculous

What a day it was when an African bipedal ape first

collection of carbon forming roots, stems and leaves

grasped that glowing branch – the remnants of a veld

becomes a dependable shelter in a storm.

fire. The harnessing of the energy contained in that

The very same carbon forms the coals that warm

wood led inexorably to human global domination

dwellings and allow succulent cooked flesh to be

and the footprints on the moon. It was without doubt

consumed by groups of humans drawn together in

our species’ greatest technological achievement.

that most ancient of rituals where protein is shared and bonds renewed around a fire. 2

Countless times our ancestors have been grateful

Much of southern Africa is arid. Water is the strictest ecological limiting factor. The light is harsh, the

heat intense, the grass ephemeral. Yet even on near-

To a denizen of the First World the same land-

ence when confronted with a great tree – is a near-

naked rocks in Damaraland, in the Kaokoveld and in

scape whose image caresses our retina is a place

impossibility. With this exhibition Leigh Voigt has

red Kalahari sands, there is the metronome-like reli-

where we can immerse ourselves in the sheer maj-

succeeded completely.

ability of green shoots and perfumed flowers from

esty of evolution on show – a huge variety of tree

The quiet, visceral impact and pure enjoyment

the ubiquitous acacias, cassias and boscias. Roots,

genera all competing for sustenance and space. All

that all viewers of this exhibition will derive from

looking old even when they are not, support trees

subtly encourage birds, bats and insects to make

Leigh’s magnificent collection of tree portraits is a

that have become objects of veneration for genera-

them their home and in so doing plant the seeds of

testament to her empathy with the human history

tions of humans who herd and hunt the animals ut-

the next generation.

and biodiversity of Africa. The exhibition is much

terly dependent on succulent seasonal growth.

But perhaps to those of us with a decent dose of

more than a collection of extraordinarily beautiful

Through the eyes of a pastoralist it is a land in-

romanticism trees are not only or merely food, shel-

paintings of trees – although this by anyone else

habited by plants that feed goats, that attract kudu

ter, scientifically fascinating or intellectually aes-

would have been good enough! Rather, as in her

and porcupines. Its trees provide medicine, poisons

thetic. They are testaments that there was a long

Nguni cattle collection, she alludes not only to the

and nectar for bees. Without shade there would be

time before our generation – a time to which they

beauty of the object itself but just as much to our

no existence. Without wood there would be no fire

stood witness, a time of other kingdoms and hesi-

ancient relationship with it.

and no dwellings. Without some of the great giants

tant explorers. An ancient tree allows us to touch

The artist’s technical virtuosity is at times breath-

in the valley where would the ancestors gather?

history. A young tree groping for the sun gives us

taking but never pompous. Leigh doesn’t bind her

Without those iconic old sentinels on the earth how

hope for the future.

subject in her technique; rather, it is a vehicle that

could you possibly describe to a stranger where to turn left or right?

I think to encapsulate on a piece of canvas all of this – the emotions that every one of us can experi-

allows her to gently unwrap for us the sheer miracle that is a tree.

Where it occurs in our area, the thorny elm, Chaetachme

Trees and Shrubs of the Witwatersrand, published by Witwaters

aristata, has a nondescript shape, small, insignificant flowers,

rand University Press in 1964.

inedible fruits and a trunk armed with sharp spines. The

In the search for identity, not only are one’s roots important,

timber has no commercial value. It’s hardly a specimen worth

but the various branches on the Family Tree influence one’s

a second glance.

interests or life choices. Trees have therefore played an

However, the tree is evergreen, and drought and wind

important role in my life, stemming from a family with its

resistant; the wood is hard and tough and the tree survives

roots embedded in the soil. It was for this reason that, as an

when others fall. Therefore, from its position on the path and

artist, I chose to illustrate the origins of my family in the

distance from our house, it gains a significance beyond the

shape of a large tree, with penned likenesses of over 8oo

call of arboreal duty.

family members nestling among the foliage. Birds, animals,

For the 35 years that we’ve lived in the Houtboschloop

lizards and mushrooms are part of the visual symbiotic

Valley in Mpumalanga, the thorny elm has been known as

system, combined with the family’s written history in time

the Thinking Tree.

and place, covering 10 generations on five continents.

Let me explain.

The Thinking Tree leigh voigt schagen february 2010

does with everyone, as soon as they marry; it takes on a whole

Mecklenburg in northern Germany, my paternal ancestors

new tribe belonging to the spouse. In the mix are an illiterate

tended elms, pines and birches. They were foresters by

Polish Jew and the sister of Karl Marx, a princess, a murderer,

both profession and passion. They planted, trimmed, counted

a drunk and a Nobel Prize winner.

and protected.

alities, I drew on the wisdom of my psychiatrist father and

ily’s work at the Esherode Institut near Hann Münden. My

employed many tricks and devices learned from him. When

uncle, Professor Tom Dunston, spent his retirement writing

there was a crisis, a problem, a pain, a decision to be made,

about and photographing the fynbos of the South African

you went for counsel to the Thinking Tree, just far enough in

Cape Floral Kingdom.

walking distance away from the house for the crisis to have

family emigrated from Germany, arriving in South Africa in

When my own young family were establishing person-

Five generations later, my cousin, Ute, continued our fam-

With our rootstock in Rostock, members of the Jeppe

the jeppe family tree pen and ink on drafting film, 130 x 84 cm 1969–1994

The trouble is, my family tree bifurcates with me, as it

Ten generations ago, in the small county of Schwerin-

been averted by the time you got there, the pain to be forgotten, the problem solved or the decision made.

1858. In May 1886, my great grandfather, Carl Jeppe, was

To distract the children from becoming self-indulgent,

one of the first three men who pitched their tents on the

selfish or just tiresome, I would send them on a mission to the

bleak grassy plain that was to become Johannesburg. A man

Thinking Tree. I imbued the tree with magical properties,

of vision and with a deep love of the German forests of his

thereby diverting the children’s attention from frustration,

forefathers, he set about planting the trees that were later to

providing a displacement activity and distracting them from

line the streets that he and LP Ford laid out in Jeppestown

any budding obsessions, thwarting any traces of the early

and Fordsburg.

onset of hypochondria and eliminating any psychosomatic

When he moved to Cape Town at the turn of the century,

ailments. A heavy burden indeed, but the hardy Chaetachme

Carl built Trovato in Wynberg, and on the 40 acres surrounding

aristata absorbed all the trials and tribulations of a

his house he planted many trees, some of which may still be

burgeoning family.

seen to this day, shading the lawns in the suburb. His son, Dr

The symbolic process of finding space on the trunk big

Theo Jeppe, was an avid orchid collector and had an orchid

enough between the thorns to fit the palm of the hand without

named after him.

drawing blood was a challenge indeed but enabled energy rather

Carrying on the tradition, my father, also named Carl Jeppe, was chairman of the Tree Society, and, together with my mother Barbara, researched, wrote and illustrated The

than blood to be drawn, and succour to be sought from its sap. We entrusted our destiny to the thorny elm and are grateful for all the richness it has bestowed upon us.

Acacia burkei oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm

Black Monkey-Thorn Acacia burkei, the black monkey-thorn, is a very variable species. This deciduous tree can grow up to 25 metres in height, and usually has a spreading, flattish or slightly rounded crown. It occurs on sandy soils in hot, dry woodland or bushveld. It has smooth or scaly greyish-yellow to brownish or almost black bark. Its strongly hooked blackish-brown thorns occur in pairs. It produces white, spiky flowers between October and January, and straight, flat, blackish-brown pods, 8–12 centimetres long, between December and May. The very hard, heavy wood is termite resistant and for this reason is popular in the manufacture of fence poles. It’s also used to make furniture. The leaves and highly nutritional pods are eaten by wild game, while the bark and leaves are used by humans for medicinal purposes. The tree was named for English botanical collector Joseph Burke (1812–1873). The umbrella shape of most acacias is so evocative of Africa that it has become an icon for our savannah. This one, typical of its genus, caught the light so beautifully that it had to be

captured on canvas.

Boscia albitrunca oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm

Witgatboom, Matoppie, Shepherd’s Tree Boscia albitrunca, the shepherd’s tree, is a prominent, wellshaped, evergreen tree that can grow up to 10 metres tall but is usually much smaller, around 3–5 metres. Native to southern and tropical Africa, it prefers hot, dry, low-lying areas; it’s a common tree of the bushveld and lowveld. It has a sturdy white trunk, frequently with strips of rough, dark-coloured bark. The tough, velvety leaves are narrow and stiff. The small, honey-scented flowers, which appear between July and November, are greenish-yellow, star-shaped and clustered; they lack petals. The small fruits, which appear between January and March on a jointed stalk, are brittle-skinned with a whitish flesh. The crown is often browsed by antelope, resulting in a conspicuous flattened underside. The root is pounded to make porridge or beer, and as a treatment for haemorrhoids, while the fruits are used in traditional dishes. The unopened buds can be pickled and used as capers. The genus was named for French professor of agriculture Louis Bosc (1759–1828); ‘albitrunca’ refers to the white trunk. Growing on the white sand of the diamond fields of the Richtersveld, this ancient Boscia albitrunca was home to many

a creature seeking its welcome shade.

Boscia albitrunca oil on canvas, 60 x 90 cm

Boscia albitrunca oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm

Boscia albitrunca oil on canvas, 100 x 125 cm

Boscia albitrunca oil on canvas, 60 x 90 cm

Boscia albitrunca oil on canvas, 61 x 76 cm

Balanites aegyptiaca oil on canvas, 100 x 125 cm

Torchwood, Soap-Berry Tree, Desert Date Balanites aegyptiaca, the torchwood tree, is a multi-branched, spiny, generally narrow shrub or tree that can grow to 10 metres in height. The bark is greyish and deeply fissured. It’s native to much of Africa and parts of the Middle East, and can be found in many different habitats. This hardy and tolerant species withstands flooding, livestock activity and fire. It has thorny branches. Its distinctively two-foliolate leaves are dark green, the flowers yellow-green. The yellow to pale brown fruit is produced even in dry times. Many parts of this highly useful tree are edible, including the fruit, though it is bitter; it can also be fermented to produce alcoholic beverages. The leaves may be eaten raw or cooked. The oily seed (boiled to reduce bitterness) is eaten mixed with sorghum, and also makes cooking oil. The flowers, too, can be eaten. It’s widely used medicinally: the fruit is said to be good for nursing mothers, the oil is efficacious in treating headaches, a decoction of the root is used to treat malaria, and a bark infusion is useful for heartburn. The brownish-yellow wood is used to make furniture and durable items such as tools; it also makes good charcoal. The name ‘Balanites’, from the Greek for ‘acorn’ and referring to the shape of the tree’s fruit, was given by French botanist Alire Raffeneau Delile (1778–1850). On the banks of the Niger River in Mali, this Balanites aegyptiaca was the only tree for perhaps a stretch of five

kilometres in which the weavers could build their nests, emphasising the opportunistic nature of life in the desert.

Acacia mellifera oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm

Black-Thorn, Swarthaak Acacia mellifera, the black-thorn, can manifest either as a multi-trunked bush up to seven metres tall with a funnelshaped crown, or as a single-trunked tree reaching nine metres in height. It’s widespread in the dry parts of Africa, the Arabian peninsula, India and the Indian Ocean region, and flourishes in disturbed or overgrazed areas. It has blackish, rigid branches. Its black thorns are hooked. Its leaflets are grey-green. The flowers, which look like creamy-white balls, appear in spring. It produces flat, papery, somewhat stubby pods between January and April. This tree is an important food resource for both cattle and wild animals, especially in dry areas of Africa, as the leaves and young branches are very nutritious; the flowers are often eaten by kudu. The sweetish gum is popular with children, bushbabies, monkeys and birds. Its lumber turns pitch-black when oiled and is used for axe and pick handles. Its heartwood is termite-proof, making it ideal for use as fence posts. Extracts from the roots, leaves and bark are used to treat various ailments including stomach pains, colds, diarrhoea and bleeding. The generic name, ‘Acacia’, comes from the Greek ‘akis’, meaning ‘point’; ‘mellifera’, meaning ‘honey-bearing’, refers to its sweet-smelling blossoms and its value as a honey plant. Growing along the road towards the Witsand Nature Reserve in the northern Cape, this Acacia mellifera was one of many hundreds where the abundant soft, fluffy, white blossoms concealed the vicious thorns on the branches. The

sweet scent of honey filled the air.

Boscia foetida oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm

Smelly Shepherd’s Tree, Noeniebos, Stinkbos Boscia foetida, the smelly shepherd’s tree, seldom reaches more than three metres in height. Evergreen, it tolerates various habitats but prefers very hot, very dry, open bushveld and often occurs on termite mounds. When not flowering or fruiting it’s easily mistaken for a shrubby Boscia albitrunca. The bark is pale brown or grey to whitish, with fissures exposing a darker, rougher texture beneath. The leaves are small, oblong and grey-green, usually arranged in tight spirals or clusters. The small, greenish-yellow flowers, which lack petals, have a characteristic unpleasant scent; they appear in August and September. The small, hairy, round berries, which may appear year round but are most common between October and March, are yellow to pale brown when ripe. The leaves are browsed by game and livestock and the bark is also sometimes chewed by animals. Sociable weavers use the flowers as nesting material and food. The sweet fruit is eaten by birds and people, while the leaves may be chewed to relieve stomach pains. The specific name ‘foetida’ is Latin for ‘bad-smelling’ and refers to the unpleasant scent of the flowers and wood. The late-afternoon light caught this Boscia foetida, growing on a working site of Early Man. Flakes, cores and arrowheads lay scattered around and I wondered if the tool-making individual would have enjoyed the shade of a similar tree all

those years ago as he toiled at his task.

Boscia foetida oil on canvas, 100 x 125 cm

Boscia foetida oil on canvas, 150 x 100 cm

Cassia abbreviata oil on canvas, 100 x 125 cm

Long-Tailed Cassia, Sjambok Pod Cassia abbreviata, the sjambok pod, is a straight-trunked, deciduous tree that can grow to about seven metres tall, but is often smaller, and usually has a neat, round crown. It’s very drought-resistant and prefers a climate with a dry winter, growing well in arid bushveld and open woodland. In older specimens the bark is deeply and regularly fissured. The leaves are dull green. In September and October it produces generous, loose sprays of deep yellow, sweetly scented flowers on the ends of its branches. The brown, hanging, cylindrical pods can reach up to a metre in length, and can take up to a year to ripen; their outer shell is velvety when young. Extracts of the root and bark are said to be efficacious in the treatment of bilharzia and blackwater fever, while other parts are used to treat backache, diarrhoea, headache and skin complaints. The common name ‘sjambok’, from the Afrikaans for ‘whip’, describes the shape of the pods. I have often pondered the contradiction in the botanical name of this tree. The specific epithet suggests something shortened or abbreviated, but it definitely is not the pods, which are as long as your arm. I found this Cassia abbreviata covered with clusters of yellow flowers, thereby temporarily

diverting my attention from the anomaly of its name to its more showy and positive attribute, floral abundance.

Adansonia digitata

Baobab, Upside-Down Tree, Kremetartboom, Monkey-Bread Tree

oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm Adansonia digitata, the baobab, is indigenous to Africa, although it does also occur elsewhere. The largest succulent in the world, it grows up to 30 metres tall and its trunk can have a diameter of up to 11 metres; it’s not unusual for older trees to have several huge trunks. It prefers hot, dry woodland in frost-free areas of low rainfall. Many legends and superstitions surround these trees which, unusually, have soft, spongy wood that doesn’t produce annual growth rings, so it’s difficult to estimate their age; however, some baobabs are reputed to be thousands of years old. The massive, squat, cylindrical trunk, which is covered with a thick, greyish-brown, fibrous bark layer, grows into a series of root-like tapering branches. Deciduous, the tree drops its hand-sized leaves in winter; they re-emerge in late spring. The large, white, sweetly scented, hanging flowers with their ruffled petals appear between October and December; fruit bats pollinate them at night. The large, fuzzy fruit is roughly egg shaped. The beige, powdery substance within can be soaked in water to make a refreshing drink. The tree has countless uses: as a shelter, as a source of fibre (from the beaten bark), fuel and water, and for food – the nutrient-rich leaves can be cooked as a vegetable, the seeds, young shoots and young roots are edible, and the fruit, once used in the production of cream of tartar, makes a drink to treat fevers and other ailments. The name ‘Adansonia’ honours French surgeon-explorer Michel Adanson (1727–1806), while ‘digitata’, meaning ‘handlike’, refers to the shape of the leaves. This magnificent baobab, the Sagole Giant, in Limpopo province, sprawls over half an acre of bush. Thought to be over 32

2 000 years old, it has a hollow centre and stands 22 metres tall.

Olea europaea oil on canvas, 100 x 125 cm

European Olive Olea europaea is a very hardy, small, squat shrub or tree growing to a height of 8–15 metres, typically with a gnarled and twisted trunk. It’s native to the coastal areas of the eastern Mediterranean, Asia and parts of Africa, and today is cultivated in many parts of the world with a Mediterranean climate but is also adaptable to other climatic regions. Evergreen, its oblong, silvery-green leaves are 4–10 centimetres long. It produces small, sweet-smelling, white flowers. The fruit can be harvested at the green stage or left to ripen to a rich purple colour. Olive trees have a history that stretches back as far as that of western civilization. Very slow-growing, they have long been cultivated for their fruits and their fine wood, while their leafy branches were used to crown the long-ago victors of games and wars and olive oil was used to anoint kings and athletes in ancient Greece. Olive trees are much mentioned in literature going back through the ages. They make appearances several times in both the Qur’an and the Bible; it was an olive branch that the dove brought back to Noah to show him the Flood was over. This ancient Olea europaea was growing on the east coast of Sicily, among the derelict bunkers abandoned after the end

of World War II, causing me to reflect on whether battle-worn soldiers sought solace and shade under its branches.

Ficus carica oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm

Common Fig Ficus carica, the common fig, is a large, deciduous shrub or small tree with smooth, grey bark. It’s indigenous to southwestern Asia and the eastern Mediterranean region, but grows in other areas of the world with a similar climate, including South Africa. Ficus carica grows to a height of between seven and 10 metres. Its leaves, 12–25 centimetres long, are deeply lobed. Its fruit is 3–5 centimetres long, with a green skin; selected cultivars ripen towards purple or brown. The common fig, which occurs in thousands of different cultivars, is widely grown for its edible fruit and has been an important food crop for thousands of years – indeed, the edible fig is one of the first plants that was cultivated by humans and predates the domestication of wheat, barley and legumes. The fig makes frequent appearances in ancient myth and legend, and in both the Qur’an and the Bible. The fruit is delicious both fresh and dried, and makes a fine jam. Figs are skin allergens, and the sap of the green parts can be particularly painful if it gets in the eyes. The spring-time profusion of Namaqualand daisies beneath the stubby grey branches of this old, cultivated Ficus carica in Nieuwoudtville bears testimony to nature’s

bountiful generosity.

Pistacia atlantica oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm

Turpentine Tree, Mount Atlas Mastic Tree Pistacia atlantica, the turpentine tree, typically grows up to seven metres in height but sometimes becomes much larger. It has a dense crown. Deciduous, and sometimes semievergreen in warmer regions, its leaves remain green well into autumn. Native to the Middle East and North Africa, this drought-resistant tree flourishes on dry hillsides in semiarid and arid areas. The inconspicuous, greeny-white flowers appear in March and April. The pea-sized fruits begin pink in colour and ripen to a dark blue or purple; they have a turpentine flavour. The single seed makes an edible oil. Pale greenish-brown galls can often be found on the leaves and produce a tannin used to make inks and dyes. Long-lived, the turpentine tree can survive for up to a thousand years; it’s mentioned several times in the Scriptures. In bygone times these trees were used as landmarks and memorials for the dead. The seeds are used in tanning and soap-making, while the fruits, leaves, oils and, in particular, resin, are extensively used to treat a wide variety of medical complaints, from throat problems to rheumatism. The name ‘atlantica’ derives from the Atlas Mountains of northwest Africa, where this tree was once very common. This specimen, at the ancient carved city of Petra in Jordan,

is over 450 years old.

Ficus sycomorus oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm

Sycamore Fig, Wild Fig Ficus sycomorus, the wild fig, is a semi-deciduous, generously spreading, savannah tree that can grow up to 20 metres tall. Native to Africa, it’s often found in rich soil along watercourses and in mixed woodland. It has smooth, greenish-yellow to orange bark with scattered patches where it has peeled off. The trunk may be gnarled and buttressed in older specimens. A lovely shade tree, its leaves are broadly heart-shaped, dark green above and with prominent yellowish veins below. Flowers and fruiting occur year round, with a peak between July and December. The tiny greenish flowers occur uniquely in thick clusters inside the fruits, which are pollinated by minute wasps that live symbiotically with the tree. The round, plum-like figs are reddish-purple when ripe. The fruit, which is popular with animals, birds and humans, can be eaten fresh or dried, and is also used to make an alcoholic beverage. The leaves, which are highly valued as animal fodder, are also used in soups. The light wood is used to make household objects (including drums) but isn’t very durable and is prone to termite damage. The bark is used medicinally to treat coughs, colds and throat problems, while the milky latex is efficacious in the treatment of inflamed areas; the leaves are said to be effective against jaundice and the roots to have laxative properties. The Ancient Egyptian ‘tree of life’, Ficus sycomorus has a history stretching back at least to the third millennium BC. This venerable Ficus sycomorus, growing on the banks of the Niger River in Mali, just where travellers board the pont to Djenne, must have withstood many floods, shielded many goats from the fierce harmattan and sheltered many weary wayfarers from the harsh sun.

Ficus ingens oil on canvas, 100 x 75 cm

Red-leaved Rock Fig, Rotsbreker Ficus ingens, the red-leaved rock fig, is a deciduous tree that grows up to 10 metres in height, and usually has a rounded, spreading crown. It’s a common tree of Africa, and prefers rocky outcrops and cliff faces in bushveld, wooded grassland and coastal regions. Extremely hardy, it can survive in areas of severe frost by clinging to rock faces that retain heat from the day and is able to withstand the ravages of scorching veld fires. This species has smooth, grey bark that can become cracked in older trees. In spring the young leaves emerge a fiery copper colour, then age to a dull green with conspicuous yellow veins. The fruit – small figs that change from white to red or purple as they mature – appears year round but has a summer peak. Like others in its genus, this tree depends entirely on minute fig wasps for pollination. The fruits are edible but not particularly palatable. The leaves are known to be toxic to livestock. The milky latex produced within the branches and leaves is used as a disinfectant. The best-known specimen in southern Africa is Moffat’s Tree, an unusually large tree which, when noted by missionary Robert Moffat in 1829, had 17 huts built in its crown to keep the inhabitants safe from lions. That said, the specific name ‘ingens’, meaning ‘huge’ and given to the tree by Dutch botanist Friedrich Miquel (1811–1871), is something of a mystery – this is certainly not the largest species in the genus. The Afrikaans ‘rotsbreker’, meaning ‘rock-splitter’, refers to the aggressive nature of this tree’s root system, which penetrates crevices seeking moisture and nourishment. I like to think that all the ugly buildings in the world will eventually be devoured by this indomitable rock-splitting fig.

It is a true survivor. And in early spring its burst of bright red foliage declares its glory in defiance of all it has endured.

Stand of wattles oil on canvas, 60 x 90 cm

Roots oil on canvas, 150 x 100 cm

Acknowledgments

Harry for taking me to Sicily, so that I could see the venerable olive tree.

front cover: Cassia abbreviata oil on canvas, 100 x 125 cm detail

Max and Walter for coming with me to Mali where the trees are truly astonishing.

front cover flap: Acacia mellifera

Douglas McMurtry, Shane Burns and Neil McCormick for making sure the tree facts are correct.

back cover flap: Pistacia atlantica

oil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm detail

May Joan Chellew for agreeing to extend our journey to take in Petra, where I came upon the 450-year-old Pistacia. Astri and John Leroy for rescuing me from being entangled in an Acacia mellifera and from getting stuck in a Richtersveld riverbed, where I found the ancient Boscia albitrunca. John Smuts, on whose invitation I went to Matombe, where Boscia foetida and B. albitrunca abound. Gunter Schlosser, who, as always, thinks I can do more than I actually can, and therefore, I can. Gina Mollé and Jacques Michau, and the staff at the Everard Read Gallery, for doing more than is expected of them. Ann Pretorius of the William Humphreys Gallery in Kimberley. Gavin Smitsdorp, architect and curator of the White River Art Gallery. Hennie Liebenberg who, without a moment’s hesitation, transported a seven-ton flamboyant stump up a bad dirt road for me to play with. David Jeppe, who gave me courage to handle an anglegrinder and with whom I spent many happy hours chipping away at the flamboyant stump. Navarre de Villiers, whose poetry inspired me. Tracey Hawthorne and Kevin Shenton into whose sure hands this catalogue was entrusted. 48

Mark Read for just saying yes to everything.

This exhibition catalogue was published in conjunction with the exhibition Trees, The Recollections of a Dendogenealogist at the White River Art Gallery, Mpumalanga 27 February – 25 March 2010 William Humphreys Art Gallery, Kimberley 11–30 March 2010 Everard Read Gallery, Johannesburg 29 April – 23 May 2010 Published in 2010 by Everard Read Gallery (Pty) Ltd 6 Jellicoe Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg Copyright © Everard Read Gallery (Pty) Ltd Copyright © Photographs, John Hodgkiss All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission from the publishers. isbn 978-0-620-46263-1 Designed by Kevin Shenton Printed by Ultra-Litho (Pty) Limited, Johannesburg

Leigh Voigt Leigh Voigt

TREES The Recollections of a Dendrogenealogist