William Kentridge: Right Into Her Arms by Kentridge Studio

WILLIAM KENTRIDGE

Right Into Her Arms

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Published 2018 by Annandale Galleries 1000 copies ISBN 978-0-9924640-5-9 Design by Bill and Anne Gregory Production by Ana Lopez and Graham Claydon Printed by Sydney Print and Promotions Photography courtesy of William Kentridge Studio, David Krut Print Workshop and Bill Gregory Special thanks to author and writer David MacFarlane for his editing and support Front cover William Kentridge Untitled, (Shadow Figure IV) 2016 100 x 70 x 60 cm Bronze, oil paint AP 3/3 Frontice piece William Kentridge Widow of Lampedusa 2017 207 x 117 cm Woodcut 12/12 Back cover William Kentridge Mantegna 2016-2017 200 x 200.5 cm Woodcut 12/12

WILLIAM KENTRIDGE Right Into Her Arms kinetic model theatre installation • drawings • sculpture • woodcuts • etchings

RECEPTION FOR WILLIAM KENTRIDGE OPENING Saturday 6 October 6:30 - 8:30 pm Exhibition dates 2 October - 8 December 2018

A N N A N DA L E G A L L E R I E S 110 Trafalgar Street Annandale Sydney NSW 2038 Australia Telephone (61-2) 9552 1699 Fax (61-2) 9566 4424 annangal@ozemail.com.au www.annandalegalleries.com.au Gallery Hours Tuesday - Saturday 11:00 - 5:00 pm Directors Bill & Anne Gregory

Right Into Her Arms, 2016 Model theatre with projected images, drawings and props HD video, software and circuitry, electronic components, wood, steel, cardboard, found paper and found objects 244 x 300 x 125 cm running time: approximately 11 minutes Video editing and construction: Janus Fouche software design: Janus Fouche model theatre design: Christoff Wolmarans mechanical design: Chris-Waldo de Wet scenography: Sabine Theunissen Music: Ursonate, performed by William Kentridge, written by Kurt Schwitters Das gibts nur einmal performed by Zarah Leander Piece for piano in the tempo of a minuet, performed by Hayk Melikyan written by Anton Webern Und die ganze Welt spricht von Nanette by James Kok Tanz Orchestra Brettl-Lieder Mahnung performed by Burcu Kurt (soprano) and Karlheinz Donauer (Piano) written by Arnold Schönberg

Right Into Her Arms (2016) is a kinetic model theatre created by William Kentridge from film material made whilst developing his production of Alban Berg’s opera Lulu (1929-1935). The opera was adapted from Frank Wedekind’s plays, The spirit of the Earth (1895) and Pandora’s Box (1902). The opera depicts Lulu, femme fatale, executioner and victim, onto whom men project their fantasies. The process of collage, deconstructing and reconstructing the images with all its instability and provisionality, is for William Kentridge the heart of the project. The ink and the multiple pages are its logic. In this the process of making met the themes of Lulu in the form of the instability of an image, which seemed to correspond in the opera and in the plays by Wedekind to the instability of the objects of desire. In the words of William Kentridge: “The impossibility of fixing who Lulu was, both in herself, but particularly in relation to the others, to the men, had a correspondence with the instability of the image, the flexibility of it. Lulu cannot be the woman that the men wished her to be, which is a stable single object of their fascination and desire; and the men cannot be the men that Lulu wants them to be, able to accept her as she is, able to follow the vicissitudes of her multiple desires, and accepting of those desires” 6

John McDonald art critic for the Sydney Morning Herald William Kentridge: Right into Her Arms In June 2015 William Kentridge directed a production of Alban Berg’s Lulu at the Dutch National Opera in Amsterdam, which subsequently travelled to New York and London. In August 2017 he presented his version of Berg’s other great opera, Wozzeck, at the Salzburg Festival. That production will be seen in Sydney in January, ahead of seasons in New York and Toronto. To stage both of Berg’s operas within a time frame of less than two years would be a severe test for the most experienced impresario, but for Kentridge the operas are only one strand of a voluminous, multi-faceted body of work in which there is a constant exchange of ideas between the visual and performing arts. Kentridge has never hesitated to take on the most ambitious subjects and shape them in accordance with his own understanding of history, politics and the human condition. Over the past few years his output has been prodigious. In this show we see the artistic residue of four major projects: not only the Berg operas but the multimedia extravaganzas, Triumphs and Laments, staged in Rome, in April 2016, and The Head and the Load, at the Tate Modern, London, in July this year. Each of these projects has involved collaboration with hundreds of creative partners. Kentridge has provided the initial spark and the guiding intelligence that has made singular works of art out of many disparate elements. Looking at the artist’s working processes from the outside there are two distinct lines of approach. Once Kentridge has decided on a subject he researches it thoroughly, investigating all the nuances and possible interpretations that might find their way into a production. Kentridge’s deeper inspiration is personal, arising from his experiences as an artist fluent in many different media, and as a South African. As such he is always conscious of his country’s troubled history and its legacy. He is aware of belonging to a nation with a colonial past that lies outside the mainstreams of western culture associated with Europe and the United States. It’s a status shared with Australia and New Zealand. One sees the thoroughness of Kentridge’s research in his use of Russian revolutionary imagery in his production of Shostakovich’s The Nose (2010), or the way he probed the history of the Enlightenment in his 2007 take on Mozart’s The Magic Flute. In earlier works with the Handspring Puppet Company, such as Wozzek on the Highveld (1994) and Ubu and the Truth Commission (1997), he filtered iconic figures from the early modern European stage through a specifically South African lens. Kentridge’s work reminds us that history contains many layers and many voices. The Head and the Load restores to visibility the hundreds of thousands of black African porters who served and died in the First World War but scarcely rate a mention in the history books. The works relating to Triumphs and Laments took a different tack, trawling through the history of Rome in images that united characters throughout the ages in a monumental procession that stretched some 550 metres along the banks of the Tiber. The original works were made by cleaning around negative spaces on the stone walls on the river bank. The images have been reprised in a series of large woodblock prints and small sculptures. Kentridge’s procession of figures is not a procession through time, but one that telescopes all Roman history into a single (achronological) march. It portrays the city as the totality of many episodes, many fragments, that remain alive in the fabric of the present – symbolised by the figures etched on the walls.These silhouettes are reminiscent of the shadowy forms on the wall of Plato’s cave, suggesting that we only see ever the bare outlines of history, never the full story. In Plato’s allegory one prisoner is freed and gets to view the world in a new, more complete way, but Kentridge does not share the philosopher’s optimism that the darkness of ignorance can be so easily dispelled. The process by which his figures were stencilled onto the banks of the Tiber meant that the images retained all their dirt and grime, even if the surrounding areas were clean.This symbolises the gritty, murky nature of history itself – an entity that cannot be cleaned without being radically distorted, perhaps erased altogether. 8

Clean history is propaganda, and is usually written by the winners. Kentridge alludes to this in the title of the project, noting that one person’s triumph is always another’s lament.

Scenes from Right Into Her Arms 9

Scenes from Right Into Her Arms 10

Kentridge has said that Triumphs and Laments is essentially about mistranslation: “It’s about taking fragments and constructing what could be a possible history.” History is in a state of perpetual decay, known only a fragmentary state no matter how complete our records or recollections. To turn history into a coherent, meaningful narrative requires an act of imagination. We have to join the dots, put together whatever pieces of the puzzle come to hand. Kentridge would rather leave us guessing than try to present the entire history of Rome as a neat chronological sequence. At best we come to understand that we can keep refining the picture, making corrections and adjustments, restoring fragments that were previously omitted, such as the story of the African porters in the First World War. The staging of The Head and the Load demonstrated a similar concern with mistranslation. Ben Luke’s review in The Evening Standard captured this aspect of the work, and its significance: He plays with the absurdity of the situation: the Dadaist poems of Tristan Tzara are translated into isiZulu, for instance. It leads at times to a cacophony of competing voices, percussive thumps and cracks, brass blasts — symbolic of the tumult of war, but also the incomprehensibility inherent in colonial relations, the commands from European powers and unheard messages from colonised Africans. Kentridge has restaged the war as a conflagration of mixed messages, false hopes, white – and black – noise. The Africans, who believed their participation would win them the respect of the former colonial powers, would be elided from the historical account. While the fighting raged, in Zurich the Dadaists were holding absurdist cabarets, reciting nonsense poems and declaring that art was dead. In Vienna, Arnold Schoenberg had already begun the experiments with atonality that would lead to the invention of the twelve-tone technique in the 1920s. Kentridge is willing to combine all these elements at the cost of immediate comprehensibility. Indeed, it could be argued that a cacophony conveys a more accurate impression of the war years than the measured tones of the official histories. This brings us to the Berg operas, also represented in this show in fragmentary form by means of drawings and maquettes. Although he endured only one year of active service and was never posted to the battlefield, Berg’s initial enthusiasm for the war rapidly gave way to disgust and disenchantment. He had initially echoed the view of many intellectuals that war would have a cleansing effect on the decadence into which society (and art) had fallen. In 1914, after five months of fighting, he was already feeling disappointed, writing to his wife: Our corrupt condition – by which I mean the aggregation of stupidity, avarice, journalism, business spirit, laziness, selfishness, capriciousness, deceit, hypocrisy and all the rest – hasn’t changed at all. His feelings were to sour further as the war dragged on. By 1918, he was lamenting that three of the best years of his life had been “totally, irretrievably lost.” For all his complaints, Berg had not been idle during those years. He had begun work on Wozzeck, based on Georg Büchner’s play of 1837 that has such eerily modern overtones. The opera would not be completed until 1922 and not performed until 1925, but it is a product of the war years. Berg told his wife that he identified a little with the lead character, a poor soldier who had been brutalised by his experiences – although it would be ludicrous to pursue that comparison. Berg’s war was filled with discomforts and frustrations, while Wozzeck was driven to murderous despair. Wozzeck is one of the most devastating portrayals of the soul-destroying, dehumanising nature of war and militarism. As such, it is one of the few twentieth century operas that has remained in the repertoire of major companies. There’s never been a soft version of Wozzeck, but Kentridge’s production has been hailed for its stark, tragic aspect. In the words of Shirley Apthorp, reviewing for the Financial Times: “Kentridge has created a new world: dark, heavy, hypnotic.” The landscape of the opera is the devastated landscape of the First World War, the libretto is steeped in death and blood. It demonstrates there is nothing glamorous, cleansing or desirable about war. There is no “purification” involved, war is always “filthy” – schmutzig! - as Berg finally concluded.

This exhibition features a selection of Kentridge’s original charcoal drawings of battlefields, ruins, cripples, a face in a gas mask – images that place the opera firmly in the twentieth century. It’s left to the viewer to make more universal associations, assuming that Kentridge is not simply referring to wars of the past, but those of the present, and those that lie in the future. Lulu, represented in this show by an elaborate model theatre, titled Right into her Arms, occupied Berg from 1929 and was left incomplete at the time of his death in 1935. In his production, Kentridge used the version finished by Friedrich Cerha in 1979, which was given the seal of approval by Pierre Boulez, often viewed as Berg’s foremost interpreter. Kentridge says the idea for Lulu came to him from seeing an exhibition of German Expressionist prints in New York and recognising that he could make a stage production using the same visual “language”. It’s easy to spot the affinities between Kentridge’s drawings and prints and the graphic works of artists such as Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Max Beckmann and George Grosz. Allowing for stylistic differences Kentridge shares the same taste for satire and political commentary; the same predilection for keeping his images raw and direct. As for Berg there are many points of connection. The incorporation of a brief silent film at the mid-point of the opera marks Berg as an early innovator in multi-media. So too with the composer’s well-known taste for palindromes, of which Lulu is a resounding example. In Berg’s music a forward movement is often followed by a reverse movement or a mirroring effect. This “reversal of time” is a congenial idea for Kentridge, who produced a major installation in 2012 called The Refusal of Time. The difference may be that Kentridge was inspired by science whereas Berg was a student of the occult and numerology. Lulu, based on a character created by the Expressionist dramatist, Frank Wedekind, is the universally desired woman. That desire is overwhelmingly sexual, but each of Lulu’s suitors looks for something else in her as well, something that fills a void in their own characters. Each is to be disappointed, and ultimately annihilated, when he discovers the illusory nature of his goal. One of the themes of Lulu is ‘the treachery of images’ (to borrow a line from Magritte). As musicologist, Sherry D. Lee, writes: “The understanding of appearance as inextricable from illusion, rather than from identity, is at the heart of the opera, as its opening frame of the circus makes clear, and this play of appearance is manifested musically throughout the work.” The “play of appearance” is Kentridge’s natural habitat – or rather, the play of appearances as a way of both concealing and revealing deeper truths. In his works the most absurd and extravagant images are gradually revealed as meaningful, obliging us to ask questions about the nature of history, politics, society or our underlying identity as human beings. Lulu’s abiding theme may be the nature and persistence of human desire, but the opera is also a portrait of a society living in the moment, spinning out of control. Or as the New Yorker’s music critic, Alex Ross, puts it: “a premonition of future catastrophe.” In a manner strikingly similar to the Edwardian period, there is a growing feeling that the world today is moving in a dark and dangerous direction.The legitimation of right-wing extremism and racism; the rise of a new generation of ‘strong men’ in politics; the continuing tensions in regions such as the Middle East and the Pacific; the growing chasm between rich and poor; the shrinking of the middle classes… the list could be extended a long, long way. In Lulu, Kentridge has recognised a text that speaks obliquely but urgently to our times. As an opera it communicates by means of words and music, stagecraft and spectacle. It is not a clear statement of a political position but a complex discourse that requires imaginative work on behalf of its audiences. Kentridge never leaves us starved for clues: he is more likely to be criticised for information overload than for wilful obscurity. His only requirement is that we come to his work – and to the work of his sources, such as Alban Berg and the German Expressionists – with a willingness to engage with the ideas and the aesthetics. He is not an artist that patronises or underestimates his audience. The challenge for us is to commit to the deep level of engagement that his artistry demands. 12

Working stage model for Lulu Opera by Alban Berg, directed by William Kentridge 13

DRAWINGS

Untitled (Drawing from Wozzeck 61) 2017 charcoal and red pencil on Hahnemuhle paper 61 x 80 cm WK 542 â&#x20AC;˘ 9991

Untitled (Drawing from Wozzeck 62) 2016 charcoal on Hahnemule paper 73.5 x 121 cm WK 568 â&#x20AC;˘ 8877

Untitled (Drawing from Wozzeck 32) 2016 charcoal and red pencil on Hahnemuhle paper 54.2 x 78.5 cm WK 539 â&#x20AC;˘ 9795

Untitled (Drawing from Wozzeck 13) 2016 charcoal, pastel and red pencil on Hahnemuhle paper 53 x 78.5 cm WK 537 â&#x20AC;˘ 9778

Untitled (Drawing from Wozzeck 2) 2016 charcoal on Hahnemuhle paper 78 x 107 cm WK 541 â&#x20AC;˘ 8878

Untitled (Drawing from Wozzeck 43) 2016 charcoal and red pencil on Hahnemuhle paper 121 x 160 cm WK 540 â&#x20AC;˘ 9801

Untitled (Drawing from Wozzeck 25) 2016 charcoal and red pencil on Hahnemuhle paper 53.5 x 78 cm WK 538 â&#x20AC;˘ 9787

Untitled (Drawing from Wozzeck 13) 2016 charcoal and red pencil on Hahnemule paper 60.5 x 80 cm WK 544 â&#x20AC;˘ 9775

Untitled (Drawing from Wozzeck 8) 2016 charcoal and red pencil on Hahnemuhle paper 53.2 x 78.2 cm WK 543 â&#x20AC;˘ 9770

UNIQUE PRINT WOODCUTS ETCHINGS

Bill Gregory Director Annandale Galleries I arrive at the gates of William Kentridge’s house and studio at 9.30 in the morning this past June. This is Houghton, a suburb of Johannesburg. While the taxi waits to be buzzed in, I admire the steel sculpture of a cat (it’s back arching) over the gates. It’s a familiar sight. This is not my first visit. I first met William Kentridge in 1995. I was in South Africa for the funeral of Joe Slovo; the former head of the ANC armed faction during the struggle against apartheid. Slovo was the South African housing minister at the time of his passing. I was a close friend of Shawn Slovo, his daughter, whom I met in London and shared a house with in NYC. So much has happened in the intervening years! And then the gates open. It’s a cloudless sky, and the morning light on the rust-coloured studio is spectacular as the taxi meanders its way up the hill towards the house. It has been several years since my last visit. It’s a working day at the Kentridge compound, and there are half a dozen cars parked at the top of the hill. He is a busy man. Staff and visitors come and go. As I get out of the taxi I’m greeted by Lulu, a friendly chocolate Labrador. Things are much the same as my last visit, the house, with its white façade and the studio’s red brick. There is only a slight wind but it’s enough to rustle the trees on the property. The effect is calming. The garden has had some new additions: flowers, small trees, some new flagstone paths between the house and the studio. The garden feels fuller and has matured since my last visit. There is a great view of downtown Johannesburg in the distance. The door to the house stands open but I make my way directly to the studio where Kentridge, his longtime curatorial assistant Anne McIIlleron and Linda Leibowitz, his studio manager, greet me. In addition to Natalie Dembo, another longtime assistant, this is his basic Houghton studio staff but the numbers can vary, depending on the projects at hand. There may be another three or four assistants, as well as a stream of publishers, photographers, other artists, friends and the like. Kentridge keeps a weather eye on proceedings and all roads ultimately lead to him but he has confidence in his staff. He delegates well, is economical with his time and notable for his ability to stay in the present and focus on the task at hand. At one end of the studio there is a maquette of the theatre piece The Head and the Load, the work that is due to open in the Turbine hall at the Tate Gallery July 11th. Later in the day Kentridge will be going over various segments of the piece with the help of technical people, working on the projections from computers with the aid of a producer whose expertise is opera, to fine tune the timing of scenes, synching of music and cues for the actors. It is amazing to think that what is being played out on this four - metre wide maquette will be translated to a stage ten times its width with projections thirty to forty feet high. The project is two years in the making. The work, conceived, written, and directed by Kentridge, created in collaboration with the composers Philip Miller and Thuthuka Sibisi, is even more challenging than staging an existing opera. There will be thirty-six actors, singers and musicians on the stage. The studio has sheets of paper on one wall that are clearly the beginning of a new film using his signature style of thousands of marks and erasures to build up a story via animation and music. They are reminiscent of the famous Soho Eckstein/Felix Teitlebaum films dating from 1989 to the mid - 1990s that launched Kentridge’s career. In terms of contemporary digital animation Kentridge’s technique is practically stoneage. It is labour intensive, but the results are unique. The sheets of paper retain the memory of previous marks and erasures and the viewer is quickly drawn into the process.

I’ve often been struck by how difficult crowd circulation can be when a Kentridge film is exhibited amongst works by other artists in a general space in a museum. There’s always a blockage in the traffic flow. People stay put

Death of Remus 2018 Unique print 1/1 Carborundum intaglio with collage and hand colouring mounted on interfacing (pellon) panels Phumani hand-made sisal/cotton paper Dimensions 102 x 253 cm WK 572 â&#x20AC;˘ 10388 33

at a Kentridge film because they are quickly entranced. This fascination seems common to art critics and Sunday strollers alike, in my experience. And I think this is a direct result of Kentridge’s theatre background. If a play or an opera, doesn’t engage an audience it will quickly close. This is a lesson that Kentridge takes very much to heart. Collaboration and delegation are key to Kentridge’s success in various media. Whether he is rehearsing an opera with over a hundred singers, or making a new woodcut, his ability to get the best out of those with whom he works is striking. Master printers, studio staff, singers, foundry workers, even his art dealers, become part of a team, and often these relationships go on for years, if not decades. I have been working with Kentridge since 1995. Philip Miller, Anne McIIleron, film editor Catherine Weyburgh, print workshop owner David Krut have been associates since the eighties. His work is challenging to these people and provides an opportunity to work in original ways, sometimes on massive scales. Inevitably, they feel a part of something larger than their individual contribution. Whether producer or stage hand, prima singer/actor (such as Joanna Dudley) or technical director – everyone brings their expertise to the table. And Kentridge relishes (and openly appreciates) the collaboration. Earlier this year, Kentridge wrote me to say he wanted to do a very substantial show at Annandale that would both compliment the show William Kentridge: That Which We Do Not Remember, opening 8th September at the Art Gallery New South Wales and echo the opera Wozzeck that he is directing at the Sydney Opera House opening January 26th 2019. Kentridge wants to show me the signature piece of the exhibition Right Into Her Arms – a kind of model theatre with moving parts and complex projections. This, however, will involve a drive to his other studio, in downtown Johannesburg. His studio is in a small arts precinct that houses the print workshop, some galleries, a restaurant and a few other arts-related businesses. The studio is large enough to rehearse and tune up theatrical works, display recently cast sculptures and is next door to the print workshop where he produced the woodcuts in this exhibition. Since my last visit Kentridge has acquired a large adjoining space that houses tools, equipment to assemble sculpture, and a room for crate assembly. The precinct also houses The Centre for the Less Good Idea, a space recently founded by Kentridge to nurture the creativity of young artists by creating and supporting experimental and cross-disciplinary art projects in a bid to challenge the boundaries of conventional theatre. The theatre space can seat over a hundred people. As might be expected of a project with which Kentridge is so involved, improvisation and collaboration are key to the activities at the The Centre for the Less Good Idea. In its first year over sixty South African artists were involved. “Often you start with a good idea,” Kentridge explained. “It might seem crystal clear at first, but when you put it to work the cracks and fissures emerge in it’s surface, and they cannot be ignored... It is often the secondary ideas, those less good ideas found in trying to address the first idea, that become the core of the work…the intention is to provide a forum for these less good ideas – arguing that in the act of playing with an idea, you can recognize those things that you didn’t know in advance, but knew were somewhere inside you.” The Centre is now an integral part of the art scene in Johannesburg. Kentridge proudly tells me that visiting art aficionados now enquire first about the centre on visiting Johannesburg. He has always been generous with his time and support of emerging artists, but with this new forum he has created an ongoing platform to nurture budding careers and for young artists to find their voice. Kentridge is giving back and sharing his success with others in a tangible way.

At the print workshop I meet Jillian Ross, the master printer who worked with Kentridge on producing the incredibly complex woodcuts for this exhibition. Some pieces are taken from over a dozen woodblock prints and several different types of wood, cut up or modified to make thirty to over fifty separate pieces that are then collaged to produce the final image. I also view the model theatre work Right Into Her Arms in the studio as well as the steel cutout sculptures to be in the Annandale show. I meet with Chris-Waldo who will be coming to Sydney to install Right Into Her Arms.

The woodcuts in the current exhibition come out of the Triumphs and Laments project, which opened in Rome in April 2016. A 550 metres long and up to 13 metres high frieze telling the story of Rome was done on the walls between two bridges over the Tiber River. This was a huge project of public art and the opening featured 30 musicians and singers and 70 volunteers to make up the Processions. Shadows on the same scale were interacting with the actual frieze at the opening. There were three performances of the opening and it was a stunning piece of theatre on a massive scale. Kentridge had a studio to produce some of the drawings in the Villa Medici in Rome. So he allowed himself the time to immerse himself in Rome and it’s history to do the project, probably the largest piece of public art anywhere outside of the Christo projects. The drawings were then enlarged to stencils and the wall sand blasted to expose the black underneath to form the procession. It was an extraordinary celebration at the time and is still there although very faded – it was designed to disappear altogether in 4-6 years. We make our way back up to the house and studio in Houghton in time for lunch. This ritual has not changed over the years. Every day at 1 pm all staff and visitors and project-specific collaborators stop for lunch. Today, Anne Kentridge, William’s wife and closest confidante (a passionate art aficionado who still works part time at a public hospital as a rheumatologist) is present. Anne was born in Australia. She has extended family here and will be present for the opening at Annandale. Also present are the studio staff, his sister Elysa and her partner David who works at an institute studying the functions of the brain and the parameters of consciousness in Capetown. These are sit-down lunches, light but substantial, and the conversation is not centred on the business of the day but exhibitions in town or overseas, sport, politics, news on people present or absent and today as it happens, the brain and how it functions due to David’s presence. It is relaxed and unhurried and provides a nice break in the day. These lunches may range from six to twenty-five people Following lunch, we return to the studio and begin to look for a suitable image on which to base a poster for the show. This will be the fifth original, signed and numbered poster he has done for an Annandale exhibition since 2000 and they are always very popular with collectors. They are always different enough from the base image to constitute an original work. Anne McIlleron’s deftness on the computer bring up a few images which are discarded one by one until we hit on the perfect one. Anne plays with the design with Kentridge until the three of us are satisfied. The image is sent off to the print studio and two hours later someone drops by with a full sized printed proof (I would have waited a week or so in Sydney, I think to myself). Kentridge thinks it needs some colour and sharper imaging in places so he makes a few changes and it is emailed back. This process will be repeated a few times until Kentridge is happy with the result. We decide on an edition of 60. I am only in Johannesburg for a couple more days and then off to London. The night before my departure from London I attend the dress rehearsal of The Head and The Load at the Tate Modern Turbine Hall. Coming out of the Tate modern café where I met my companion for the evening I bump into William headed towards the café for a cup of tea with his sister Elysa and her two children. The performance is less than an hour away, the culmination of two years gestation and work and here is Kentridge, dressed in his signature white shirt and black slacks, completely relaxed. I ask him if he is ‘ready’ and he nods briefly – a silly question I suppose. I introduce him to my companion and he is gracious and interested. He has a curiosity about people that make these constant introductions not just bearable but often stimulating. The dress rehearsal is full to capacity and there is an air of keen anticipation. Awaiting the performance, I sit with David Krut and catch-up, having not seen him for several years. I also chat briefly with Kentridge’s father, Sir Sydney Kentridge, an immensely important figure in the struggle against apartheid who successfully defended Nelson Mandela among others against treason charges and went on to become one of the leading silks in the Commonwealth, based in London. I first met Sydney in 1997 at Documenta, in Kassel Germany, a huge art extravaganza that is staged every five years and for which Kentridge had been selected. Sydney tells me that all his life William had been known as the

son of Sydney Kentridge. He said that soon it would be the other way around and Sydney would be known as the father of William Kentridge. He did not have long to wait - by 2000 Kentridge was one of the most sought after artists in the world. There are only to be seven performances of The Head and The Load and it is sold out within hours of being announced. It will travel to Germany in August and then the Armory in NYC in December. I attend the dress rehearsal as I fly back to Australia the next day. There are thirty-six actors, musicians and singers. Entirely written and directed by Kentridge, the work is spellbinding and like nothing I have ever seen before. It tells the story of the 300,000 plus African porters who died in Africa during WWI, about ten times the number of German or British soldiers. The piece shines a light on this largely ignored part of history. It is spectacular, full of energy and at the same time emotionally moving. While centered in Africa, as with so much of William’s work, it resonates well beyond. Our treatment of the Aboriginal lookouts and scouts during WW11 comes to mind. Leaving their land for up to two years and then not formally recognized or given any pensions. Other parts of the world such as the USA and Canada have similar histories. This is another reason why Kentridge’s work resonates Internationally. Joan Miro once said that to achieve something truly universal, an artist must be profoundly intimate with some subject matter or surroundings. Monet’s garden at Giverney or Cezanne’s Mount St.Victoire come to mind. Kentridge has lived his entire life in an area that is only a few kilometres in any direction from the family home in Houghton, Johannesburg. Of course he constantly travels, but his strength lies in his relationship and intimacy with this area. It is the wellspring and the cauldron from which he reaches out to the world via his art. Artists of his caliber usually move to one of the great centres of art; London, Paris, New York. For Kentridge this would be unthinkable. While he spends much time in these capitals for his exhibitions, he always returns home to Johannesburg and it is there that the grand projects are conceived. Out of operas like The Magic Flute, The Nose, Lulu and Wozzeck or installations like Triumphs And Laments flow the sculptures, etchings, linocuts, short films and drawings that we eventually see in galleries and museums. Kentridge will be directing Alban Berg’s Wozzeck at the end of January at the Sydney Opera House. There are nine extraordinary drawings relating to the opera in the exhibition, Right Into Her Arms comes out of the Alban Berg opera Lulu and the woodcuts come from Triumphs And Laments. A model for the stage set of Lulu will also be on display so there is a strong Opera/Theatrical theme to the show. There is also a prominent sculptural element, with the four Untitled (Shadow Figures), the iconic Lexicon Paragraph II and the fifteen piece steel cut-out Procession from Torino. Apart from The Shadow Figures all these sculptures and the drawings will be seen for the first time worldwide at Annandale. Kentridge will be in Sydney for a few weeks for rehearsals and performances of Wozzeck. He is very much looking forward to this project as he has a very close affinity with Australia. I believe a plan to take a holiday in Tasmania is also in the works. His interest in and connection with Australia make his exhibitions here, dating back to his first Annandale show in April 1996, very special. I would like to thank William and Anne Kentridge for their visit and enthusiasm for the project; the Kentridge studio staff, in particular Anne McIlleron and also Chris-Waldo de Wet, who will fly here for three days from Johannesburg to do the installation of Right Into Her Arms. David Krut and Jillian Ross from David Krut Print Workshop and members of staff at the Goodman Gallery in Johannesburg.

Kentridge at work in studio, Houghton Johannesburg 37

Master printer Jillian Ross at work at David Krut Workshop Johannesburg

In early 2016 William Kentridge was at work on the monumental frieze Triumphs and Laments to be installed on the banks of the Tiber River in April of the same year. The 550 metre work was stenciled on the wall of the river from Ponte Sisto and Ponte Mazzini. It consisted of scenes from the cultural and political history of Rome from drawings Kentridge had been preparing in his studio in Johannesburg for a number of years. In January 2016 Kentridge also began discussions with long-time collaborator Master Printer Jillian Ross of David Krut workshop (DKW) about using these drawings as a basis for a series of large woodcut prints. Over the course of the year, the printing team worked on creating and editioning the first two woodcuts from the series, Mantegna and The Flood.

The Flood 2017 Relief, printed from 11 woodblocks on Somerset Velvet Soft White 300 gsm Final work comprised of 15 individual sheets adhered by 30 aluminum pins woods used are Panga Panga, Ash, Poplar, Maple, Saligna and African Walnut Dimensions 181 x 213 cm (edges irregular) Edition 12/12 WK 566 â&#x20AC;˘ 9741 39

Kentridge working at David Krut workshop Johannesburg 40

Mantegna 2016-2017 Relief, printed from 12 woodblocks on Somerset Velvet Soft White 300 gsm Final work comprised of 28 individual sheets adhered by 47 aluminum pins Woods used are Panga Panga, Poplar, Maple and African Walnut Dimensions 200 x 200.5 cm (edges irregular) Edition 12/12 WK 565 â&#x20AC;˘ 8964 41

Widow of Lampedusa 2017 Relief, printed from 13 woodblocks and one linoleum block on Somerset Velvet Soft White 300 gsm Final work comprised of 21 individual sheets adhered by 37 aluminum pins Woods used are Panga Panga, Ash, Poplar and Maple Dimensions 207 x 117 cm (edges irregular) Edition 12/12 WK 567 â&#x20AC;˘ 9742

Rider 2018 40.5 x 50 cm sugarlift, aquatint with drypoint on handmade Phumani 120 gsm sisal and hemp paper 120 gsm mounted onto 400 gsm Arches paper Edition 38/40 WK 571â&#x20AC;˘10380

Acacia 2018 40.5 x 50 cm sugarlift, aquatint with drypoint on handmade Phumani 120 gsm sisal and hemp paper 120 gsm mounted onto 400 gsm Arches paper Edition 38/40 WK 570 â&#x20AC;˘ 10381

SCULPTURES

above four details from Lexicon Paragraph II opposite page Lexicon Paragraph II 2018 24 bronze sculptures size variable circa 105 x 165 cm Edition 1/9 WK 545 â&#x20AC;˘ 10365 46

Processione di Riparazioniste 2017 15 laser cut steel sculptures, heights variable, shelf 5.5 metres Edition 1/6 WK 573

Processione di Riparazioniste 4 2017 laser cut steel 41 x 17 cm Edition 1/6 WK 546 • 10157

Processione di Riparazioniste 14 2017 laser cut steel 34.3 x 18.2 cm Edition 1/6 WK 547 • 10157

Processione di Riparazioniste 6 2017 laser cut steel 32.8 x 16.8 cm Edition 1/6 WK 550 • 10161

Processione di Riparazioniste 1 2017 laser cut steel 36.7 x 24.8 cm Edition 1/6 WK 548 • 10168

Processione di Riparazioniste 3 2017 laser cut steel 34.2 x 23.2 cm Edition 1/6 WK 549 • 10170

Processione di Riparazioniste 8 2017 laser cut steel 32.5 x 20.2 cm Edition 1/6 WK 551 • 10159

Processione di Riparazioniste 13 2017 laser cut steel 44.2 x 18.8 cm Edition 1/6 WK 552 • 10171

Processione di Riparazioniste 12 2017 laser cut steel 34.2 x 20 cm Edition 1/6 WK 555 • 10153

Processione di Riparazioniste 15 2017 laser cut steel 34.2 x 20 cm Edition 1/6 WK 554 • 10155

Processione di Riparazioniste 7 2017 laser cut steel 29.2 x 20.8 cm Edition 1/6 WK 553 • 10152

Processione di Riparazioniste 5 2017 laser cut steel 40 x 24.2 cm Edition 1/6 WK 556 • 10158

Processione di Riparazioniste 10 2017 laser cut steel 40 x 24.2 cm Edition 1/6 WK 557 • 10154

Processione di Riparazioniste 11 2017 laser cut steel 33.3 x 24.2 cm Edition 1/6 WK 558 • 10156

Processione di Riparazioniste 2 2017 laser cut steel 20.3 x 37.2 cm Edition 1/6 WK 559 • 10167

Processione di Riparazioniste 9 2017 laser cut steel 27.8 x 19.8 cm Edition 1/6 WK 560 • 10160

Untitled (Shadow Figure I) 2016 3 views

Untitled (Shadow Figure I) 2016 bronze, oil paint 67 x 50 x 42 cm Edition 5/8 WK 561 â&#x20AC;˘ 8856

Untitled (Shadow Figure II) 2016 3 views

Untitled (Shadow Figure II) 2016 bronze, oil paint 67 x 40 x 42 cm Edition 5/8 WK 562 â&#x20AC;˘ 8863

Untitled (Shadow Figure III) 2016 3 views

Untitled (Shadow Figure III) 2016 bronze, oil paint 42 x 30 x 26 cm Edition 5/8 WK 563 â&#x20AC;¢ 8864

Untitled (Shadow Figure IV) 2016 3 views

Untitled (Shadow Figure IV) 2016 bronze, oil paint 100 x 70 x 60 cm Edition AP 3/3 WK 564 â&#x20AC;¢ 8865

above Kentridge studio, Houghton Johannesburg below Kentridge studio, Arts on Main downtown Johannesburg

above Kentridge House, Houghton Johannesburg below Kentridge studio, Houghton Johannesburg

above Garden, Houghton Johannesburg below Anne and William Kentridge

Poster for Annandale Galleries digital print on archival gallery board 330 gsm 56.5 x 111.5 cm signed and numbered Edition of 60

A N N A N DA L E G A L L E R I E S