• Q: You use blankets as your medium. These are either Basotho or prison blankets and I read that this “emphasises the bare necessities available to the marginalised in society and reminds the audience of the reality of the marginalised.” Why use blankets in particular to spotlight the plight of the marginalised? 
     
    A: The prison blanket, if you consider its history, was given to prisoners, to our Kings on Robben Island and that can be linked to colonialism, apartheid or any form of imprisonment that Black people went through at the time. If you consider townships, they are the product of colonialism and apartheid, people were forcibly removed and placed in confinement with a lack of resources. As much as we do not want to speak about the past, we are the product of the past, so we cannot escape it. So the question is how do we move away from it. These blankets are also used when there is a humanitarian crisis- they are given to refugees. So the blanket has a dual function - on the one side there is imprisonment and on the other there is comfort, but that comfort is limited. To me the blanket is a reminder that we are in a state of crisis, but not an environmental crisis, but this is a crisis about us as the previously marginalised. 

    When you go to art school you are taught about conventional art mediums, but I wanted to break away from that and that is when I came across the blanket. At first, I did not know it was a prison blanket, until I visited a former prison for women in Braamfontein and I saw sculptural objects made from blankets. 

    The Basotho blanket was first introduced to Black people during the reign of King Moshoeshoe 1, the first Basotho King. The wearing of animal skins was replaced when the use of blankets was assimilated into Basotho culture. There are many iconographies on blankets that link to colonialism, like some blankets have anchors on them and that reminds me of settler colonialism and the slave trade. I am Sotho, but I am from Limpopo, so in my culture the mountain is important, because when someone passes on, we bury them at the foot of the mountain to become our ancestors. That is why I incorporate mountains in my work.
  • Q: The colours in your work are rather dark – predominantly oscillating between white, black, grey, and navy blue. Please...
     
     
    Q: The colours in your work are rather dark – predominantly oscillating between white, black, grey, and navy blue. Please elaborate on your chosen colour palette.
     
    A: If I consider how I paint, there is no grey, I layer black and white. This recent colour palette (that I have been using since 2018) links to the statements that I make in my work. If I were to create my works in colour, they would not be as impactful, because when you try to speak about something, colour tends to distract from what you are trying to say, and the viewer will not get the entire message. There are also so many artists that use colour and if I want to be part of the visual arts industry, I need to think about what will make me stand out and I thought, let me use a  colour palette that goes against the status quo. 

     

     

  • Your works have an historical element within them as they make reference to colonialism, apartheid, and other forms of racial oppression that have affected Black communities. I have two questions in this regard. 
     
    • Q: What are your thoughts on the ability of art to create an engaging dialogue around injustice, both past and present? 

     

    A: When it comes to art creating dialogue around injustice, it becomes a question of who we are speaking to - are we speaking to the people who are buying the work or are we speaking to our people as the previously marginalised and those who come from those generations who went through oppression. We don’t consider the art gallery because it provides a meeting point between buyer and artist. 
     
    • Q: Would you then say that art can generate greater social justice? 
     
    A: I think art does not help with ending injustice but it can generate greater social justice by  highlighting injustice.
     
    Q:  South Africa is regarded as one of the most unequal societies in the world and your art practice is an endeavour to subvert inequality, particularly in human interactions. Would you say that you are challenging or rather commenting on the current state of the country?
     
    A: I would say that I am commenting on ignorance. People do not want to acknowledge where they come, acknowledge the impact of what happened in today’s society. 
     
    Q: Your work pivots on the concept of the humane. Do you believe that broader human society has possibly lost their sense of humanity, that is exhibiting kindness, compassion, and patience toward others? 
     
    A: Yes, I think so. If you consider today's society, it is run by money, not on thoughts about how we can live better with the environment and with each other. We have lost touch with humanity, humanity is declining.
     
    Your work is rather devoid of cityscapes, and only features (rural) landscapes with trees, and mountains in particular. Would you say that you are averse to city life? 
     
    A: City life is different from rural life. It is not that I do not like city life, it is just that in the city there are all kinds of trauma coming together. In the city all nations are under one roof, especially here in Johannesburg. The language that you can relate to in these types of environments, is the one that we share, which is the language of colonialism. 

     

    Q: What are your feelings regarding the rapid pace of urbanisation and the increasing isolation between humans and the natural environment? 

    A: There is this belief of greener pastures and our people come from very challenging backgrounds. So what the media sells to us is that in the city there is gold. But when you get to the city, there is no gold, only killing. In the city there is no money. I believe that our history is wealth. If you run from your own history, you are running away from wealth. I would say that rapid urbanisation is actually mass colonisation, physically and mentally. That is why I always go back home, back to nature.

  • Q: At the opening of the ‘Roots to Wings’ exhibition, you said the colours in your work are intended to...
    Q: At the opening of the ‘Roots to Wings’ exhibition, you said the colours in your work are intended to hint at a burning landscape. Why a burning landscape? 
     
    A: The burning landscape is not a mirage, but a metaphor, for the landscape that we do not want to revisit, the landscape of trauma, all kinds of imprisonment and other forms of trauma such as  grief. Basically we are refugees in our country; we are in a state of refuge. In Sotho we have a word for a burning landscape and the word means ‘emergence’, like where do you come from. In our community, the past is a sort of burning landscape and only a few of us reflect on what happened; go back and revisit that burning landscape. 

    My view on apartheid, colonialism and any form of imprisonment happening today, is that there are bales of trauma. The landscape is already burnt by the colonisers. As someone who comes from a generation of people who went through the burning of the landscape, myself and other marginalised groups are forced to inherit what our ancestors went through. We  are born with it, it is in our genes. The landscape is already prepared for us. Apart from the trauma, when we consider the stories we share in cultural spaces, we realise that there is a resilience that repeats itself. This word has become central to conversations about our work.