Lebohang Kganye

mother worked in a factory, Kganye says as an example, but there is not a single photograph of her working there. “The images represent only certain parts of people – often the parts they want to remember.”

Kganye’s work primarily evolves around archives and oral history as a research method. In the film Pied Piper’s Voyage (2014) she gets to know her grandfather trough relatives’ stories and archival photographs. However, Kganye expands: “I realized how the idea of archives are beyond photography. I started to think about clothes and furniture as archives as well.”

In her later work, Kganye explores further how memories work: “Family albums are almost like children’s book. They are a space for fiction.” Her grandfather has always been the hero of the family narrative. However, Kganye wants to add depth instead of simplifying what is told. On one hand, there was the brave act of finding new opportunities for his family, Kganye explains. But her grandfather also used to drink a lot – even today, stories about his alcohol abuse are told as funny anecdotes. While turning to a layered narrative, Kganye also critiques the “grand history” of South Africa.

Lebohang Kganye’s work is all about stories – stories of her family that are intertwined with historical narratives about South Africa and respond to a broader context. Still, the beauty of Kganye’s work lies in its simplicity, whether it is an exhibition with her well-known cardboard cut-outs or a video. The artist from Johannesburg is a trained photographer, but Kganye explains during her lunch lecture on the 15th of May that her work is also deeply rooted in performance.

In her earlier work, Kganye herself performs in front of the camera. In “Ke Lefa Laka: Her-story” (2013), Kganye traced her deceased mother’s life by visiting the same places and wearing her clothes. In other projects she embodies her grandfather. But performative aspects are also in the archival photographs she uses: “The photographs are a space for my family to present themselves. Family archives are not only about memories, but also representation.” Her

When asked towards the end of the lunch lecture how to make personal stories accessible for others, Kganye anwers: “For me, this question is about how far I should take the conversation. It’s about proximity.” In May, Kganye’s work was exhibited at foam Amsterdam. As her projects also touch upon forced migration and colonialisation, the context of the exhibition (be it the Netherlands or South Africa) matters a lot. “How close do I let people in? How accessible does it need to be?”. When it comes to the titles of her work for example, Kganye refuses to translate them from seSotho to English. This connects to her childhood in post-apartheid South Africa when she was not allowed to speak in her mother tongue. Kganye says: “I realise that I struggle with Sotho when interviewing my family. Through my projects, I also try to get closer to my family and my language. In my projects, proximity and accessibility is always to be negotiated.”

The way Kganye lets her audience be part in the very intimate stories is also what sticks with me after the lunch lecture. Although some of the specific anecdotes and happenings remain unknown or strange to me, there are many aspects (also in the strong aesthetics) that I can connect with. I admire how Kganye makes so many “big” topics such as identity, family, society and historical narratives tangible by interweaving her own experiences with her family’s stories and collective memories. Her work makes me understand once more how to be very specific and personal and still refer to a wide and layered narrative.