Articles - Page 103 of 108

Jack Parow: Belville. Benoni. Blondies.

Feb 3, 2022 | Interviews, Music

Gavin Williams chats to Jack Parow.

From a Monster Hits CD his mom bought him to high school dial-up piracy and an apology from upper management at The Ford Motor Corporation, it’s been quite a ride for Jack Parow (formerly the artist known as Bong Scare, General Quickdraw McGraw and Muis Is Baas).

I remember hearing rap for the first time when DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince’s “Girls Of This World Ain’t Nothing But Trouble” got some airplay on national radio for some reason when I was 9. I became obsessed with rhyming. I memorised all the lyrics to the song and rapped it for friends (some of them even girls) at Arbor Primary School in Benoni. There was something so unconventional and vast about rapping. You could make up rhymes about absolutely anything and I found that feeling so liberating. Especially for a kid who had grown up on Roald Dahl’s Revolting Rhymes and Dr. Zeuss. You could put this to a beat? Whaaa?!

A few years later, in a bedroom somewhere in Belville a young Zander Tyler listened to a Monster Hits Volume 4 CD which fatefully (and thankfully) contained -nestled between Loft’s “Hold On” and Bitty McLean’s “Dedicated To The One I Love”- was Snoop Dogg’s “What’s My Name”. Like they had for me in 1986, the lights came on for the boy who would become Jack Parow. The original Afrikaans rap phenomenon, celebrating what he knew instead of posturing to be something he wasn’t, avoiding one of hip-hops myriad of pitfalls. While the light-switch moment was real, a rap career has to follow a path of discovery through various incarnations, sessions, crews and battles.

This rap revelation (much the same as my early discoveries) led Zander to discover things the hard way. Pre-internet you had to search for your rap fixes which made them sacred artefacts when discovered. Zander craftily used to frequent Paperweight (whatever happened to that chain of stores? They were so great!) and buy stacks of XL magazines: a hip-hop beat and rhyme bible. This led to discovering rap acts like Deltron 3000 (Del Tha Funky Homosapien’s evolutionary name), Public Enemy, NWA, Pharcyde, Nas, Bone Thugs ‘n Harmony, Wu-Tang etc. The beginning was near.

I first heard Jack Parow with a searing hangover courtesy of another Thursday night at the Camps Bay Bowling Club during its Golden Age. My flatmate at the time was blasting “Cooler As Ekke” on repeat from the lounge which woke me from my R12 brandy special slumbers. Turns out he was directing the video that day. When I heard “Ek drink Klipdrift, jy drink Peroni. Jy het vriende in Swede ek het vriende in Benoni” I announced that I was going along to the shoot. I ended up in the music video (briefly) during the Benoni part, obviously. More importantly, a friendship was struck up. Here was a normal guy rapping in Afrikaans about everyday things and making them sound like a revelation. A joyous disregard for what you could and couldn’t say, exactly what had attracted me to the artform in the first place.

Jack Parow /// Parowfest 2018 © Robin Looy

Jack Parow sounded like he’d come out of nowhere, pre-packaged, but obviously, this wasn’t the case. He had started out in a rap crew called Famly (there’s no “I” in Family, you see) spitting rhymes with kids while everyone at his school was listening to fucking Live or Creed or something. However, his schoolmates’ tastes led to a mildly lucrative Napster then Livewire piracy business with his dial-up modem his mom had got him that was uncapped from 7 pm to 7 am. Zander would take requests at school for all sorts of shit, download through the night, wake at 5 am to create the artwork to be applied to the CD-R and then sell them to the kids back at school. Perhaps this teenage pirate spirit led to him deciding on the name Jack Parow. Mercifully, he’s far funnier than Johnny Depp’s capering in that endless Disney Theme Park Ride franchise nightmare.

“Cooler As Ekke” was written “outside Assembly” (the former nightclub) Zander tells me. He had left his job in advertising after studying Multimedia, left his cool city digs at the top of Kloof Street and moved back in with his mom to pursue his rap dreams. Things really clicked when he started writing and rapping in Afrikaans. En die res is basically geskiedenis.

One of the last times we hung out was on an Afrikaans quiz TV show called “Slim Vang Sy Baas” (which we won along with Rufio Vegas). Catching up, we conducted this “interview”, basically over a few beers at the new Kloof Street towny-scenester hangout spot, Blondie, we spoke about a lot. One of the things is about where Jack Parow ends and where Zander begins and vice-versa. Rap names are shields. As a shy, introverted person he reckons in certain situations he can summon Parow and say things he normally wouldn’t say. And Jack Parow has a lot to say, usually with a few beautifully placed expletives thrown in. You know exactly what you’re getting with a Jack Parow song, lyric and a Jagermesiter-doused live show. Apparently, not everyone was aware of that at The Ford Motor Corporation – essentially the automotive equivalent of America’s heartland bible belt. We started talking about his worst gig ever…

Ford had booked him for their end of year function in the isolated mountains of the Drakensberg. Upon entering the first people he encountered was an elderly gent with long grey hair and a matching snor. In my mind he was wearing one of those leather amulet things, cowboys favour around his neck and a stetson. His wife next to him was dolled up in chintz with a perm and a poodle under her arm. Undeterred, Parow took to the stage. About 4 songs in someone had handwritten a note and placed it on the monitor in front of him. It simply read, “take a break”.

Apparently, a small section of the true-blue Ford employees at various levels of management were outraged by his use of expletives and his whole general vibe probably. Who the fuck books Jack Parow without knowing Jack Parow loves to intelligently swear in his lyrics? He left the stage, went to his room -trapped in the Drakensburg- and got absolutely, justifiably hammered (with some Ford employees joining him for a skop in his room after their function ended). The annoying fact was that most of the crowd loved it except a handful of holier than thou corporate buffoons.

Young, wild, drunk and famous, Parow then (again justifiably) took to Social Media to tune Ford. This led to an apology from upper management, not from SA, but from global headquarters in Detroit, USA. Kit-Kat smartly jumped onto the story and because he was told to “take a break” they sent him a huge hamper. Nice one.

After quite a few Fokof Lager pints for me and a whiskey & water, couple of Jagers and a Paloma cocktail for Zander our conversation turned to our daughters and how wonderful they are and ultimately what’s next for this rap stallion from the CY plated creative hub of the Western Cape. His latest music video for “Pappa P” just came out and it’s an old school rap jol masterpiece. His new album is dropping in stages. One a month for the next 12 months. Like waiting to watch Thundercats but instead of every week it’s every 4 weeks. Worth the wait. The album is called Die Evangelie Van Goeie Tye (The Gospel Of Good Times). Each song will be a Psalm, I got a preview of Psalm 1: Demone. It’s demonically choral and bombastically beat laden, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it as much as I did catching up with a good friend and all round smart, humble guy.

By Gavin Williams, Contributor and Creative Director at North VCA

Pop-Cultural Projections with Keith Vlahakis

Feb 1, 2022 | Interviews, Art

There are certain people one meets along the way that consistently inspire through their perspectives and accumulated wisdom. For me, Keith is one of those people – we were introduced via the team at Jack Lemkus, a meeting that sparked an incredible conversation in September 2021 – and If you are interested in his background regarding a life-changing relationship with the NBA and his crazy collectables archive; head on over to this piece at https://lemkus.com/blogs/news/obscure-archives-keith-vlahakis. I wanted to chat to Keith in the new year and catch up on where he is at right now – and as always, our conversation was brimming with crazy references like the A$AP Rocky/ Under Armour debacle with the Osiris D3’s, and how skate culture and hip-hop were always meant to intersect – and how he never left baggy clothes behind and has been waiting a good few years for the y2k Bathing Ape revival to begin. We chat about pop-culture and fashion, and Keith’s thoughts on the metaverse – and even go into both our feelings that NFTs have ruptured the structure of art, and thus the chaotic, oozing hysteria needs time to stabilize. In a way, I wish this piece could just be one long quote straight from Keith’s mind – apart from being an exceptionally talented creative pluralist (as he puts it) and brand collaborator, he also critically assesses the rapid acceleration of what he says, “is the realization that we are living in what I thought 2045 would be like, and even for a self-proclaimed sci-fi geek like me, that’s scary.”

The last time we met up, Keith had a bunch of cool stuff on the go – so my first question to him was, what’s happening right now in 2022? “That 2000s baggy look is back, and I am really grateful – I never stopped dressing like that, so when skinny jeans took hold of our collective aesthetic – I was like damn, what is going on in the world? I think this is why I am relating a lot more to fashion at the moment, and my graphic design and typography talent has allowed me to partner and collaborate in the industry. After my project with Relay Jeans where we created three jackets, it rolled into other projects – so now, I am back in cahoots with the NBA and NBA Africa – I cannot divulge much more, but this has the potential to be a personal home-run. Other than that is a soon-to-be release with Woolworths, and the relationship I have with Diddy’s brand Sean John.” When pop-culture appears to be born and die at almost the same time, Keith draws on varying decades and moments to make him the vivid progenitor that he is in South Africa. In speaking about the puffed skate-shoes that have come back – think DC, Volcom and Etnies – Keith says, “You know when Fred Durst was rocking the wide leg three quarters, backwards cap and wristbands? That was me back in the day on my BMX. That’s only like 15ish years ago, and yet then it was almost unheard of for people of colour to be mixing in that realm – we were supposed to be gangsta, or reminiscing in the 90s – but it’s begun to emerge that so many of us were rocking with that stuff, and many people of colour have been influential in drawing the nostalgia of skate culture back into relevance. I really love how so much of Cape Town skate culture is held by people of colour now – and that even when there seems to be so much division, there is actually a thread of unity through all human beings.”

Keith is one of the only people I interview who always asks me questions in return – so when he asks me what I think of how trends are born, I explain that the way I see it? We have been led to believe that its a top-down pyramid from the runway & luxury, down to the streets and ordinary people – yet with exposure to online spaces and a more globalized world, I think it seems pretty evident and obvious that trends are born from the curiosity and finesse of people like us all over the world and that gets sucked up by corporate / brand culture. Keith responds, “exactly – I think the gen-Z obsession with y2k is exactly how we were with the 90s. Like Tupac or even Kurt Cobain, it’s our longing for a time we never actually experienced yet is still felt in the collective consciousness.”

As someone who has built their career as digitally-oriented expression, I was super curious to pick Keith’s brain about the “metaverse” and NFTS – huge subjects that I am trying to gather intel to have an informed opinion rather than a fear response. Keith says, “I think back to the 1993 film Demolition Man with Sylvester Stallone and Sandra Bullock – basically he has been frozen since 1996, and comes back in probably our era now, and it’s a “touch-free” society. That is pandemic vibes for me – in which we were all forced to adapt digitally in the last two years. The thing with the metaverse, is it’s a double edged sword. We could have had this conversation typed out on whatsapp, but we could never experience the nuances we are having right now face to face. I am all for it, but it’s so addictive and powerful; so right now, I am viewing it as managing my dopamine like with anything else I do, like knowing not smoke 3 ounces of weed or drink a whole bottle of whiskey – I think we need to have the same kind of caution of restraint and discipline if we are to use this new frontier wisely and consciously.” and on the topic of brands in the metaverse, Keith states “I like the idea of Nike creating these worlds – I come from advertising – but Nike already has real estate in my brain, along with StarWars etc. It could be really dope, but I would rather we were experiencing the multiverse than a meta-verse that runs parallel to reality.”

Our conversation ends with a dive into NFTS. While I cannot fully understand it, and see it very much as a manifestation of our obsession with ownership and what we have rather than who we are, Keith as a digital artist offers this insight, “Art has always been disruptive. There was a time when it shook things up for artists to go outside and paint – a time where the Church commissioned Michaelangelo, who would probably be today’s hyped-artist with millions of followers. NFTs have broken open this very secretive and classist structure, and it’s in a state of total chaos. I am a bit pissed off that the level is so trash – because I really thought something like NFTs would break the illusion around “high art” and “low art” – and now everything thinks pop-art, like the art I make, is super easy to make. It’s not. Making memes or using emojis is a bit of a dilution of what is actually possible with a crypto-backed art space.” Before Keith got into artistic career, he worked at art auctions – and with regards to NFTS, Keith says, “Look, the whole thing looks like its functioning very much like the Sotheby’s and Christie’s scene. So while there is a move to a more democratized experience of art, classism very much still has its finger in the pie. There is a degree of openness, but we will have to see how it all unfolds. I want more African artists to join the game, and join it properly – that will be where society begins to totally change.”

Keith goes onto explain that he has some NFTs in the pipeline, and to end of this conversation I have one more quote for all artists from Keith;

“Think of creating NFTS like an exhibition you would for a show. Build it beautifully, properly, with the same dedication – and put it out there, but don’t do it because you’ve heard it made some millions. Do it as an extension of your own practice. I think that way, it will carry the same authenticity as tangible work – and hopefully elevate our ideas of the possibilities of NFTs.”

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Slow-Living as a Profession & Practice with Stella Hertantyo

Jan 31, 2022 | Interviews, Community

In uncertain ecological times, and with our crystallizing awareness around the social, racial and gendered inequality that permeates through our local and global communities, it can often be difficult to retain a sense of hope. I have often faced bouts of existential, nihilistic dread during these last few years of my 20s – oscillating between extremities of positive denialism and passive depression. Stella Hertantyo is one of those rare beings that I have come across who seem to embody both balance and joy in ways that inspire and delight – yet remains deeply engaged and critically minded of the intersections and realities that converge on the path to embodying a better way forward on this planet. I first met Stella in 2019 at Rewoven’s Future of Fashion sustainability symposium – and alongside her best friend & co-creator, Masego Morgan, I have since looked to both of them as expressions of what it means to wholly and irrevocably believe in human beings, and thus the planet Herself.

Stella is a slow-living, slow-fashion writer and practitioner; working with Tywg (Jackie May’s gorgeous publication), Conscious Fashion Collective and Conscious Life & Style. We sat down at the vibrant Sonder café in Obs to chat about what led her to the slow-living & sustainability movement;

“I think it has always been an innate part of me – the curiosity for the world we live in, and concerns around all the ways we can see how misaligned the world is systemically. In my second year of studying journalism, I went to a clothing swap run by Masego – and my mind was really blown. I had been thrifting and had always old & vintage things, but had not really understood it as a political choice, or made the connection with thrifting as a social movement. There was no money exchanged in this space, there was nothing to do with shopping – yet it still fulfilled this desire for newness in me. The sense of community, above all, struck me, and it opened my mind to the fact that there were ways to engage with fashion outside of the mainstream system.” Stella explains the pivotal moment that re-directed her course; and in many ways, this was forged through her friendship & sisterhood with Masego. Fashion as a capitalist industry is a behemoth – it is an unruly, excess driven system rather than any kind of space or community that speaks to fashion as a vehicle of expression. Yet, many of us are drawn to it like a moth to a flame; and stories like this remind that when the task of change is insurmountable, it can also be a conversation between two strangers at an experimental clothing swap – later to become a beautiful friendship and educational space in the form of @cnscs_.

“I will always regard Masego as the start of this journey for me, because at the time she was the only person I knew who was a similar age and South African, speaking about the social and environmental ethics around clothing. With cnscs_ (pronounced “conscious”) we realised we were having all these conversations with each other, and wanted to solve questions on these issues outwardly and expand to a community around us. A lot of our plans for the platform had to adapt when the pandemic hit, but I think it’s still an example to both of us about how we can use social media and technology to create conversations particularly in the context of the global south and Africa. My heart is very socially-orientated, so the environmental aspect came later – we used to have such a thriving garment industry, where did it go? – so I began connecting these dots that I had in my mind.” Stella states, which reminds me of something I have been understanding in my own process; that it is the legacies of imperialism, colonialism and its extractive, divisive operations on indigenous communities that have led us down the road we are on regarding the climate crisis. Perhaps the planet reflects back to us our own imbalances and violences – and that this is where we need to look first in securing any kind of future for humanity.

“While fashion was a starting point for me, it has really splintered at this point! I am so curious about slow-living and sustainability – and I had this energy to explore more in this space that I could see affected change. So my post-grad at the Sustainability Institute in Stellenbosch taught me so much about land, food, social equity – and I don’t really see myself as a “fashion person” or fulfilling that persona, more the textiles aspect which is underpinned by the soil and agricultural practices and issues. We have so much to shift, and I think understanding the interconnectedness of all things has allowed me to weave a more authentic picture in how I would like my career and life to relate to sustaining and honouring this world.”

To me, Stella is carving a path that exemplifies the power in holding values personally and professionally. Through her example, I am incredibly hopeful and excited for our generation’s ability to transmute a dire inheritance into a world driven by community and conscious principles – and that truly, we never need to concern ourselves with a singular narrative or trajectory for our lives – all is connected, and to be aligned to this truth is to forge a new philosophy. I urge you to follow her work as it unfolds; voices like Stella’s are the ones we need at the forefront.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Interlude Chapter 01 | A Celebration of Structure

Jan 25, 2022 | Fashion, Interlude

“There are four elements of fashion design: shape and form, line, colour/value, and texture.

There are five principles of fashion design: proportion and scale, balance, unity (harmony), rhythm, and emphasis.”

– Fashion Institute of Technology

The concept of Interlude has been ruminating in my mind for a very long time – mostly as a far-off dream projected somewhere in the decades to come. Only recently, with the encouragement from Connect Everything Collective founder Candice, has it become apparent that channelling the things I see and feel around fashion + design could be brought into form. The idea for this column is to peer into the most recent past in South African fashion, and as we are barely into 2022, the occurrences I have selected for Chapter 01 are all from the latter part of last year; wherein the midst of uncertainty and chaos, local designers continued to bring out collections that were visually nourishing and structurally thought-provoking. In my view, there is no real boundary between streetwear or luxury, in the sense that if a garment is well designed and contextually conveyed to its audience; it is worth talking about. In this way, the labels featured in Chapter 01 encompass both – and while this may not always be this column’s format, much of what this first edition concerns are specific garments, from specific collections. To speak about structure in fashion design, is to weave together the elements and principles noted in the introductory quote from FIT.

The very nature of garment design is the transition from 2-dimensional flat plans, to fit the curvature and contour of a 3-dimensional body – so I suppose, fashion is always a celebration of structure – and therefore feels like a fitting originating subject for Interlude | Chapter 01.

In April 2021, Yannick Ilunga (best known as Petite Noir) introduced the sartorial component to his evolving “Noirwave” landscape. The label, NO BORDERS, is an apt name – it describes a sentiment that both Yannick and Rharha (Rochelle Nembhard) draw on as part of the Noirwave ethos; the destruction of socially constructed borders and divisions. Staying true to Yannick’s artistry, NO BORDERS offers basics emblazoned with punk-esque graphics. In regards to structure – the piece from 2021 that struck me the most – was the “Novita 1” loafer. A single seam binds down the center of the simplistic, unisex shoe – beautifully crafted reminiscent of the cobbler tradition – available in black. While most loafers showcase a heel or buckle, the Novita 1 is a pared back accompaniment to layering. Honestly, the importance of an uncomplicated yet beautifully crafted black shoe cannot be emphasized enough; I hope to see more iterations of footwear from South Africa design.

It would be totally remiss to touch on 2021 without mentioning Connade – Shelley Mokoena’s made-to-order womenswear label. Having styled a few pieces last year, I can attest to the intricacies of Connade’s construction; details such as piping, pleating and ruching are fantastic ways to manipulate and elevate fabric. This is something consistent of Connade’s essence as a label; most recently, the Cleansing Collection ‘22 exemplified this – with the nature of water underpinning the contours and accentuations of the garments. Structure is created in the “Contour One Sleeve Dress” with bold piping along the seam to exaggerate the shape of the dress – with piping also added to the ruched “contour tube top” –

this creates an organic line that curves, challenging the typical straight seams one expects from pattern-making. The Paneled dress is another indicator of Connade’s consideration of form – these can be complicated engineering feats to perfect for design – strips of fabric are layered in varying heights to create tassels, with the caped sleeves bringing volume to the upper-body while the tassels cascade. I like this juxtaposition of proportion; and Connade creates statement pieces in line with a sense of minimalism; yet where minimalism can often feel dry, Connade imbues a sense of richness in the details that are worth fawning over.

Imran Mohamed’s ASA SADAN was launched in September 2021, now exclusively featured at Daniel Sher’s (GoodGoodGood) store DuckDuckGoose. ASA SADAN is an homage to the heritage tailoring of Cape Town’s Islamic community and South Africa at large; the first drop, “Dissertation Studies” combines sharp tailoring contrasted with elements of tech-wear; where so much imagining of futurism is set in outer-space, Imran has created a bridge between generations of past and present built firmly on this soil. The sage tactical vest is so good;

and when worn together with the tailored single pleat trousers, a real case is made for why great design is about perfecting base elements – and why sartorial lineages between cultures and communities will always be the original blueprint for everything we might see on the runway or in windows. Imran is an alumni of my dream school, Central Saint Martins, and this capsule collection is a follow on from his studies there; thinking about CSM having a dose of South Africa presented to them with this level of finesse gives me goosebumps.

With maximalism and colour on my mind, I have to mention Artho Eksteen’s debut at SA Fashion Week. I have spent the last few years amassing nude and black tones in everything I buy and concerning myself with brutalist ideation in design; and finally colour is calling out to me again.

Artho’s AW22 collection was print mania with layered knits – and really very interesting and joyful – it felt like a Gen-Z Chulaap with a twist, and has motivated me to be bolder in 2022 in my own style.

Curated & Written by Holly Bell Beaton

Mamela Release Their First Single “Tsitsikamma Vygie” on German Electronic Music Label Katermukke

Jan 21, 2022 | New Release, Music

Mamela, the music duo of Parisian talent Valentin Barbier (Boogie Vice) and South African born Gordon Mackay (El Gordo) sees its first release “Tsitsikamma Vygie” on German electronic music label Katermukke in collaboration with Pangea.

Mamela, meaning “Listen” in Sesotho, is an ode to the travels of Valentin and Gordon and is born from a trip taken up South Africa’s East Coast – following their mutual passion for the great outdoors, the pair embarked on an epic trip exploring its natural heritage by foot and road while recording and creating music from a DIY studio setup of analog gear in the back of a motorhome.

Enthused by their good friend’s dense vinyl library of rare 70’s & 80’s Afro-Funk & Soul, they loaded up a sampler and hit the road with the intention of writing tripped-out Afro-Disco inspired by the exquisite locations they were immersed in.

This collaboration between Valentin and Gordon is a reflection of both artists’ dedication to precise and detailed execution of music making, and to having as much fun while doing it as possible – using just a Sampler, a 303 Bass synthesizer; a Model D synthesizer, and gentle doses of psychedelics, the imagination behind the sounds created is translated into a sublime reality and listening experience.

“Tsitsikamma Vygie” is the first of many tracks to be released by Mamela and with its full-bodied elements of down-beat melodic techno, at a perfect 122bpm, this progressive afro-electronic sound journey is certainly a benchmark for more of what we look forward to hearing from this dynamic pair.

Streaming links:

Feminine Voices For House Music with Rishi Love

Jan 20, 2022 | Interviews, Music

According to a study released by the University of Southern California’s Annenberg Institute in 2021, women make up a meager 2.6% of music producers – and while this indication is based on the U.S demographic, it feels like an apt reading for the entire planet. It’s a man’s world, and women’s voices have simultaneously been muted and exploited; creative industries being no exception. Although this feels like a somber start to this conversation, it is precisely these sort of numbers that led us to chatting to Sheree AKA DJ Rishi Love about her foray into music as both an artist and producer. Sheree’s energy and spark is so contagious, as she holds a firm belief in doing what you love – no matter who opposes you, it can be done.

Reminiscing about her entry into Johannesburg’s music scene, Rish says “Growing up my mom was always playing music – she really instilled the idea of turning up the volume and starting the day with blaring music in me. I took piano lessons for a bit as a kid, but we didn’t have the money for me to continue; and I thought that was it. It was only in my teen years when I began to search for underground music, especially deep house, that I realized music was possible as an actual profession. I remember bartering at school for downloads with cigarettes – and I found myself gravitating towards house parties. You could always find me sitting at the DJ booth totally curious and trying to work out what was being played and how. When Soul Candi came onto the scene, my CD pouch was bursting! It was gold to me.”

This kind of fascination is usually what drives leaps of faith and commitment to a certain path – and many who have walked before will say that sometimes it is about making the right connections, and being bold enough to step into a space as if it’s your own. “I went out as a way to learn how DJing worked, and then I bought my first CDJ and taught myself how to mix, going on Youtube and watching countless tutorials – and I fell in love. I made a lot of mistakes, but I kept going. I went on to buy loop packs and blending them all together, and really just messing around – obviously it sounded terrible at first – but I think with anything, you have to put the time into learning something. I have an ear for music, but I really had to be open to learning the nitty-gritty.” Rishi saying this reminds me of my own defect in thinking – that if I’m not instantly good at something, then I abandon the pursuit entirely. This is predicated on this illusion of perfectionism, and I wonder how many dreams have been lost to the furnace of this fallacy.

“I reached out to Deep Aztec when I had finished my first song, as I’ve been a huge fan of his for a long time – he loved it and sent me some notes, which were so useful. I was floored when he wanted to remix it, and so we released that – and that led to me signing to Turn Left Recordings. Honestly, between him and Rose, their support system has been instrumental. I have learned so much and having them share their insight with me has really grounded me into feeling like this is all possible and achievable – beyond what I think I had experienced previously as a spectator of DJing. I think the biggest issue with music is loneliness and competitiveness; when in truth, everyone wants to be in community, especially in certain genres like deep house.”

This sentiment of community feels like the remedy to the individualistic systems that have been built across all industries. So much gate-keeping and insecurity either make or break people; but what if it wasn’t that way? In speaking to Sheree, I realize that this mentality IS shifting; with examples occurring all around us of collaboration and connection as the driving principles of what we do as creatives.

“I think COVID has changed the industry. There seems to be a sense of humility, because most people have realized we need each other to make this all happen. You can’t do anything alone, and there is so much room for all of us to shine. Even with my streetwear label, RAION, and now with SPRMRKT, I wanted to share this spark I’ve felt between music and fashion. Think of going out on a big night – you’re putting your outfit on, tunes playing; that’s something we share across the world. We might lack some of the accessibility in South Africa, yet we are just as dope as other countries with major cities like New York and London. ”

In a lot of ways, that is the point – it’s all the people throughout every level of an industry who create or contribute to spaces that broaden the horizons of others. Sheree is someone who has taken what others have shown and taught her, and turned it into a variety of offerings for South Africa as a whole. This spirit of generosity is beautiful to witness, and so required for music.

“Groove is what I feel” is available at turn-left-recordings.fanlink.to/Rishi-Love-Groove-Is-What-I-Feel
@sprmrktza is a streetwear pop up market in the @exchange.building for labels like Palace, Stussy, Brain Dead, Raion, UNDFTD instore or online @lemkus_

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Githan Coopoo, Translations of Mythology into Reality

Jan 14, 2022 | Interviews, Art

To be an artist – and assume this title – has very little to do with the progression or recognition of one’s work by an audience. Like many embodied identities, these aspects of Self were always there; and even when not yet realised in waking consciousness, these aspects of who we are exist as the subtle intentionality with which we move through our own lives. We just need to take up this mantle within ourselves.

Githan has been making art for many years; his career as a jewellery designer is inextricably linked to notions of art; using dry-clay to create cracked or shaped forms with embossed prints drenched in vivid colours that are akin to precious objects. Being an artist is deeply woven into the fabric of who Githan is – and moving into the process of sculpting from his initial inquiry into adornment (jewellery) to the idea of larger vessels feels like a natural progression. This can be seen with the vases in his first solo exhibition “Structural Integrity” at the new Norval Foundation X Boschendal manor house, and most recently in the Everard Read Gallery’s CUBICLE showcase featuring a series of sculpted handbags reminiscent of the micro Hérmes Kelly – this show aptly named “The Luxury of Wearing Fakes”.

What is a luxury good if not a reflection of class warfare

“For my first show, Structural Integrity, I had the incredible privilege of opening opposite Zanele Muholi’s edition of Somnyama Ngonyama – especially because I have hung two of their series (another part of Sonyama Ngonyama and the Faces and Phrases series) in my time in the curatorial department at Zeitz Mocca. It was incredibly special to find myself in their presence again but in a very different capacity.” Githan states in our conversation. I am intrigued by this full-circle moment, and the idea that artists exist together in varying phases of the outward, physical feats of their career – unknowingly holding each other in bringing their expression into form.

Regarding the idea of vessels, Githan explains “this show is an acknowledgement of the temporal and sacredness of vessels. I wanted to explore objects that are intimately bound to change, yet represent some of our earliest conceptualizations of form – the vase very much represents that for me. Air-drying clay has a very interesting and playful nature as something that is kind of a fallacy – because it is “less functional” than fire-cast clay – but for me as a self-taught sculptor, it allows me to engage with the canon of ceramic-production in South Africa, but in a more queered manner because it is performed rather than being traditional. Air-dry clay presents difficulties in that it doesn’t hold large forms very well – and so it is subject to a lot more consideration for what it could become. When dried and painted, this type of sculpting renders the object completely decorative because it cannot hold any water or liquids. I really love this – there is a sensitivity and vulnerability in this way of making clay – and these are principles that I used when making my jewellery.

A key signature of Githan’s are the anecdotal inscriptions on much of his work – these epitaphs hold a relevancy and intimacy that he uses to engage his audience through language. It feels like a longer-form conversation than with Githan’s jewellery imprinted with monograms from the most recognizable luxury brands. On this, Githan explains; “The clauses I use tend to have a lovely ability to consolidate and make us all on the same page with one another. I find so many of these clauses, although said by either myself or my friends, remind me how important it is for us to destabilize the separateness occurring in the world – specifically through humour. They go from being very abstract to being very satirical, and in this suggestion of a joke, the audience is invited to engage with the work in whichever way they please. I want people to feel invited into the conversation and that they are also in on the joke.”

In Githan’s most recent show “The Luxury of Wearing Fakes”, it brings into question the meaning of luxury – a subject I grapple with daily in my own periphery to the fashion industry. In asking Githan of the current manifestation of “luxury” as inextricably linked to materialism, he said, “The notion of the fake bags and the way that I love wearing them is a performed critique on the idea of luxury. I am very aware that we have created a society in which we feel good about ourselves when we feel expensive. I looked at my time visual merchandising and reflected on how we exist in stores – where how much of us is for sale as the objects that we are lusting after? While the first show felt like the laying down of a foundation, this second show has felt more like I have had the capacity to have fun. I think being able to take relatively serious queries that I have and translate them through my own hands for the pursuit of these conversations is so beautiful. I feel very grateful to be able to do this.”

Colour is critical to Githan’s process – a symbol of his own relationship with the richness of expression with which he lives. We have had so much monochromatic minimalism defined to us as elegance, and so bright colours and shades of neon make me feel such joy when viewing both Githan’s jewellry and sculptural works; this is the root, perhaps, of his process – that his work elicits equal parts emotion as it is thought-provoking. We are so excited to witness more emergence from Githan as an artist weaving together essence and form.

Structural Integrity is on until the end of January 2022 at Boschendal Farm.
The Luxury of Wearing Fakes is on until 22 January at Everard Read Gallery.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Das Kapital: Dynamism in Pursuit of the Vision

Jan 11, 2022 | Interviews, Music

Kyle Brinkmann AKA Das Kapital has been an inimitable force in South Africa’s electronic music scene for the last decade. He seemed to be everywhere, at all times – one moment anywhere at a show along the east-coast, suddenly back in Cape Town, and back out again (depending on the season), all while ensuring a weekly production was recorded for his 5fm show In Das We Trust – in which Kyle has steadily diversified the tastes of an eager local audience through a smörgåsbord of new sounds. In doing so he has inspired those after him to take up their mantle as artists, particularly through the establishment of his record label Do Work Records.

Kyle’s appearance on the DJ circuit was at a very particular moment in Cape Town, the early 2010’s, in which clubs like Assembly and Fiction were bursting at the seams with the city’s most curious and creative kids experiencing their coming of age; Black Label & entjie in hand. A viral remix also set the scene for Kyle – the infamous Skinny Love remix – which was the perfect distillation of that era; an ultra indie, tender sounding Bon Iver song tempered by hard electro beats. Alongside this, our country-wide festival scene was raging like wildfire; and being in my dirty-hippy phase I was hitting trance parties bi-weekly – and yet, there was Kyle too, playing off the mainstage, remedying the crowds with new flavours of electro as a salve for the bass-heavy psy-trance perfect to move your jaw to.

In this way, Kyle has always been moving, creating and curating – a connoisseur, if you will, of everything he focuses on. It’s in his nature to be consistent in his craft – and then, the pandemic hit. As we know, no one was untouched – and without delving too deeply into the uncertainty of lock-downs, work scarcity etc.- this global confinement set in motion a space in which DK could rest, reset and redirect his attention towards a variety of interests beyond music. Kyle’s repertoire now includes design and creative direction for Mad Dogs (yes, breathing new life into the heritage kid’s brand from the 90s), curatorship of The Stockroom Show with the team at Jack Lemkus and showcasing his enviable collection of sneakers online. Homie has style in everything he does; a wellspring of musical/cultural/fashion knowledge and an unquenchable thirst for pursuing his vision of dynamism.

This is our conversation from Downtown Ramen in Harrington St, where I got to ask an old friend some questions I’ve had throughout the years. It’s longer than usual, but absolutely worth the full read with many words of wisdom and anecdotes relevant for anyone pursuing a creative career in our beautiful country.

You are one of the most dynamic creatives that I know; as a DJ, producer, designer, creative director, collaborator and mentor; can you talk a bit about where your focus is currently?

The end and beginning of the year is always a strange time for me, because it does feel like the brakes get slammed hard in the creative industry – and then you’re basically waiting for everyone to put their foot on the gas again in the new year. I use this time to reflect on what I’ve done and look forward to the next projects I have lined up. At the moment, there’s some creative direction and projection that needs to happen for 6 – 8 months from now for Mad Dogs. The focus right now is how to keep shaping strategies to pivot and re-invigorate the brand. It’s an interesting dynamic of this historical, “big” brand essentially being run by a very small team – so looking at working with that as we focus on building our winter collection and putting a lot of ideas to the actual test.

I like looking 6 months back and 6 months forward, and sort of seeing myself in between that at any given point. I think that’s a good way for anyone doing multiple things to orient themselves – to be anchored right in the middle of everything that’s happening in order to maintain that outward awareness and view, at all times. I’m happy to see the entertainment industry get back on its feet. I’m DJing a lot more than I have in a while, and I am hoping to get back into the studio again – doing more vocal work, co-producing with people, and then hopefully writing and producing my own music again. That being said, collaboration is really where I am at right now, it’s what is giving me the most joy and motivation – and I’m a remixer at heart, as that is essentially a collaborative avenue. Woven into all of this is a lot more digital media – to be revealed…

Your decade-long career as a DJ under the name Das Kapital is interesting because I remember when we were in high school & you’d carry around your Macbook – even creating music then – and I think your career is the perfect expression of talent plus the actual grind and grit it takes to make dreams happen. Can you talk a bit about your early career, and the trajectory that led to joining 5FM?

I always saw myself getting into music one way or another. I wanted to write music, produce music and that idea shifted over the years – until the end of high school, which was the perfect time to be passionate about dance music. It wasn’t the first genre I was focused on – I actually thought I would be a hip-hop or scratch DJ – before being a house DJ. In 2010, fresh out of high school and doing a course on sound engineering to refine what I had taught myself, I found myself in a position where I was able to get a set at a club. Having a unique sound and a weird way of bringing stuff together stood out quite a bit – and it garnered the attention of some of the right people. I am thankful to have been in the right place at the right time, while also having the willingness to throw myself at something with everything I had. I was laser-focused on music, and willing to do the not-so coveted set hours – you know, being 19 and wanting this loud, wild experience and setting up your whole life to accommodate that. I was able to be consistent at that time too, which is hard for anyone at that age I think, but I knew I needed to keep being put on line-ups and show up with professionalism and drive to turn this thing into a long-term gig.

I had this myopic passion for music – and although that hasn’t changed – it’s definitely shifted in that now I’m more interested in creativity as a whole, and what that looks like for me – I guess, growing up and maturing. Looking at how I can take this creative space that I’ve accessed through music, and applying it to other pathways that I feel drawn to. And then the Skinny Love mix came out and it blew up – and it was totally unheard of for a song by a South African producer to hit a million streams across a bunch of blogs, which put eyes on me. I had been at UCT for two months, left, and then was contacted by UCT radio to do a show – and that was my segue into radio. I had no intention of being on radio, but it then progressed to internet radio at Assembly’s radio booth (RIP) and it rolled from there to 5fm now.

People used to ask how I got my start and if they could trace the steps – and I could tell people where to be and what to do, but with anyone’s path it can’t be replicated – and I’ve gone onto see so many aspiring young artists become my peers and have success on other mediums which I could never have had myself; we all have a way to move in our creative paths, and we can definitely learn from those before us, but ultimately it’s so unique for everyone. That’s what makes creative industries so compelling and diverse.

Owning a music label, Do Work Records, and producing music within the South African context – you have been a mentor to many emerging artists. What did Do Work Records arise from?

Do Work was built with my then manager Tim, at a time when it was kind of hard for me to find a home. I had this reputation in South Africa, but there weren’t really labels in the country doing what I needed them to do. There were major labels – but they weren’t going to give me the freedom I needed, which is literally a point on the road that every musical artist has to reckon with. I chose to be independent, and released EPs on Do Work; but then it really became a space about nurturing and producing other talent. I wanted to help springboard young South Africans, which was a great opportunity for me to further the idea of artistic direction; how to actualize other artists into their own vision and careers.

To be honest, the idea of a record label as the “middle man” is seeming more and more obsolete. Even with my own label which has been on hiatus for a while, I have this concern of it even being necessary. Sure, the support labels offer can be crucial, but there is such a risk of murkiness. It’s one thing to be a vehicle for artists, but with the way I see everything occurring digitally – it’s sort of touch and go on whether record labels are still able to fulfill anything meaningful for independent music.