Healing and Reclaiming Tattoo Culture in South Africa

Tattooing is considered among the oldest forms of art –  the word itself ‘’tatau’’ is derived from Samoan, although the practice itself has far reaching, global and ancient origins. It has really only been in the last few hundred years of human civilization – and by that, I mean western imperial civilization that has attempted to dominate cultural norms for centuries – that tattooing has faced a status of taboo and heresy. Using our bodies as the canvas for our life stories – our cultures, community positions, achievements and as spiritual protection – is perhaps as primordial as the tattoo tools that have been found, dating this practice back 50 000 years ago to the Upper Paleolithic era. Tattooing is innate – in our blood and bones as human beings –  spanning from the painted Celts on the British Isles to the Vikings and Samí in Northern Europe, and the Inuit people even further up, across to Eastern European folk tattooing, across to the Americas (North and South), all around Asia, and from the top of Africa to the tip – to the Polynesian Islands, and New Zealand and Australia – indigenous tattoo practices are as prevalent and unifying to the human experience as eating, sleeping and sex; ingrained in our evolution, our diversification, and migration across the eath. It is no wonder that now – with the resistance towards western, white supremacist patriarchy and all its iterations of oppression, bodily policing, and violence – that the practice of tattooing among millennials and gen-Z’s are erupting alongside activism and social change. The changing attitudes to tattoos and body modification in the work-place and in public are shifting because of those who chose to embrace their expression overall all else – and in South Africa, this shift is alive and thriving.

Still, contemporary tattooing has been no stranger to the exclusivity and toxicity insidiously warping even the most sacred of spaces as remnants of colonial programming. In conceptualising this piece, I posted a story asking for everyone’s favourite tattoo artists – and slowly, with the guidance and direction of friends (IRL and URL) – this story has revealed itself to centre on the perspective of black, people of colour, queer (female bodied) and women tattoo artists in both Cape Town and Johannesburg. On building spaces of safety and celebrating culture – I spoke to Ndumiso Ramate of Soweto Ink, who alongside Sibusiso Dlamini founded the shop in 2014. Ndumiso explains the story behind Soweto Ink, “Our objective is empowering young artists who are coming up – giving them guides and tips on the industry and to believe in themselves, Soweto Ink is the people’s tattoo brand. We also host one of the biggest tattoo conventions in Africa, Soweto Ink Tattoo Convention, and we see the culture is growing and slowly understanding what professional tattooing is and people understand what a good tattoo artwork looks like and how to locate a good artist on social media.” Commenting on what this growth means, Ndumiso says, “This is growth considering we are coming from a ‘Stoeka’ (jail tattoos or bad tattoo) era where in our black culture, tattoos are deemed to be satanic, dark, or criminal  Tattooing is for us, the healing of our people because people come with so many different stories and most of the come for closure, healing or happiness.”

Tattoo client and writer, Alyx Carolus’ free ebook Tattoos are for Everybody is a guide to being a black or POC tattoo customer; an invaluable resource, encouraged by her own experiences – on what led to the guide, she says, “I’ve been getting tattooed for over a decade now, and throughout this time, Black and brown people have approached me with questions. They wanted to know what to ask when in a shop, who could work on their skin tones and who would offer a good experience or would be dismissive to their queries. I wanted to condense the things I’d learnt from being a regular client, working in the industry briefly and hearing about positive/negative experiences in shops around the city. Ultimately, I wanted to create the guide I wish I had a decade ago.” Regarding whether she has seen any meaningful change in the industry in Cape Town, Alyx comments, “I think there’s an awareness, with the rise in social media, that the clientele and industry is changing overall. Local tattoo culture has been viewed as having one face, and one or two types of clientele – when historically, body modification has never been limited like that. People who may not have had the space to talk about their experiences, such as harassment, discrimination of all kinds, have a platform. At this point, if you’re still operating in a way that doesn’t consider everyone and being less discriminatory, it’s definitely noticed and spoken about.”

Navigating an industry that has been dominated by cis-white men, resident tattooist at Palm Black Tattoo, Chanté Brinkhuis – idenifties as queer and POC artist on their page, explains the growing sense of safety they and their clients have been able to engage in, “I’ve been lucky enough to have honest conversations with many of my clients of colour about racism and intimidating tattoo spaces. The fact that people feel like they can open up about their experiences means so much to me, because it shows that they are comfortable in the space. Getting a tattoo can be an intimate and daunting experience so it’s super important for clients to feel at ease and this energy also needs to come from the rest of the studio as well. I’ve added a “POC” highlight on my Instagram account which consists of tattoos that I’ve done on darker skin tones. People of colour often check artist’s feeds to see how their tattoos might look on their skin. As a person of colour it’s something I relate to and definitely something I’d like to see more on other artist’s pages.” Dismantling gatekeeping is possible – and for Chanté it was set in motion in the last two years; “I was turned down by many studios until I approached Raoul Goetze, the owner of Palm Black Tattoo. Raoul was quite different to anyone else in the industry I had met up with at that point. He believed in my potential and I was hired a week later. It was surreal for me, because I was so used to being underestimated. No one expects a queer coloured girl to become a successful tattooer in one of the country’s most reputable shops. It was during my apprenticeship when my perception of tattooing changed. I became more educated in its history and origins in cultures all around the world. In tattooing’s early history, it was seen as sacred and ritualistic. I’d love for tattooing in the modern day to be seen as that, or at least be treated with a similar level of respect and consideration. My colleague, Matt, often refers to it as ‘spiritual exchange of energy’.’’

Ethel Laka  was at one time the only black, female tattoo artist working professionally  in South Africa – as an industry OG, she was a forerunner in opening up the possibilities; even when this may not have been intention. Regarding her observations over the last years, Ethel says, “it’s still mainly male dominated, unlike the rest of the world where there are a lot more women involved in it. That said, I recognise that as women we have never needed permission from males to take up the careers that we wanted. I was always thrust into a white male dominated space so I recall being the only black female in south africa that was in the industry. I know that now there are some other women who have taken it up. Society informs how our businesses thrive, and patriarchy and racism have always been factors to note in who comes to my business and who does not. Understanding South Africa’s terrible past, we have yet to have notable social cohesive intentions. We are still culturally very divided, and I think it’s a crucial observation as it affects how a society views arts, expressionism, women and arts. We then need to support talent based purely on that and not factors like race or sex. Black women have and continue to phase othering and inaccessibility across almost all industries; the idea that tattooing, intended to be a rebellious, counter-cultural phenomena and yet remains as tied up in patriarchy and white supremacy as any other; speaks to the reality of both on the most subtle and pervasive levels. Ethel reflects on her come up as black, female artist – saying,it has been both arduous and rewarding. I have had to understand society so that I understand the notions that people have about race and women. Of late, I’m so happy to be experiencing a lot more black women who are taking the tattoo industry on with large tattoos and the revelation that there is an expertise to the craft. It’s not just a tattoo, it can become a collector piece that you can enjoy and marvel at for life, especially the fact that we as tattooists do have different depictions and characters in how we translate a design. So I am flourishing and some days are very difficult to get through as South africa is still not as extreme in expression as the rest of the world, but my aim is to always inspire and get people who don’t have tattoos to view in a different light that it is a safe expression and when done professionally: it can be something that anyone can enjoy.”

Ethel Laka  was at one time the only black, female tattoo artist working professionally  in South Africa – as an industry OG, she was a forerunner in opening up the possibilities; even when this may not have been intention. Regarding her observations over the last years, Ethel says, “it’s still mainly male dominated, unlike the rest of the world where there are a lot more women involved in it. That said, I recognise that as women we have never needed permission from males to take up the careers that we wanted. I was always thrust into a white male dominated space so I recall being the only black female in south africa that was in the industry. I know that now there are some other women who have taken it up. Society informs how our businesses thrive, and patriarchy and racism have always been factors to note in who comes to my business and who does not. Understanding South Africa’s terrible past, we have yet to have notable social cohesive intentions. We are still culturally very divided, and I think it’s a crucial observation as it affects how a society views arts, expressionism, women and arts. We then need to support talent based purely on that and not factors like race or sex. Black women have and continue to phase othering and inaccessibility across almost all industries; the idea that tattooing, intended to be a rebellious, counter-cultural phenomena and yet remains as tied up in patriarchy and white supremacy as any other; speaks to the reality of both on the most subtle and pervasive levels. Ethel reflects on her come up as black, female artist – saying, “it has been both arduous and rewarding. I have had to understand society so that I understand the notions that people have about race and women. Of late, I’m so happy to be experiencing a lot more black women who are taking the tattoo industry on with large tattoos and the revelation that there is an expertise to the craft. It’s not just a tattoo, it can become a collector piece that you can enjoy and marvel at for life, especially the fact that we as tattooists do have different depictions and characters in how we translate a design. So I am flourishing and some days are very difficult to get through as South africa is still not as extreme in expression as the rest of the world, but my aim is to always inspire and get people who don’t have tattoos to view in a different light that it is a safe expression and when done professionally: it can be something that anyone can enjoy.”

On her experiences as a female artist, Tanya Swemmer says, I think women in general often feel the need to work harder and prove their worth over and above what is necessary or healthy. I definitely felt this for a long time but after a few years I’m starting to ease into my own rhythm and space.” On whether the plurality of tattoo artists is becoming normalised, Tanya says, “I think tattooing is a little late to the party but the conversation has started and things have started to change. Most shops have gone from a predominantly white male workforce to quite a diverse range of people. There is always work to be done but I’m hoping that the general public aren’t so intimidated anymore when walking into a tattoo shop.”  

Evidently, change is happening – in supporting spaces and people who are instrumental to this, I am reminded of the practice of etching our skin arising from the foundations of community; and that the more we can talk, and find ways to heal, the greater we can action a future across all spaces of creativity that are led by love.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Samurai Farai whips up one-of-a-kind piece of artwork for Dutch denim brand, Denham

In Collaboration with Trailblazing South African multi-disciplinary artist, Samurai Farai and Dutch denim brand, Denham, have created a striking window display at Hyde Park Corner’s main entrance until the end of July. The fabric installation is Farai’s interpretation of Denham’s passion for design seen in full splendour using a multitude of blue hues and accents of colour. The main feature is Denham’s iconic scissor logo, inspired by founder, Jason Denham’s first pair of tailor shears. Denham, founded in 2008, is obsessed with creating premium-quality denim & approaches design with passion and innovation while honouring tradition.

Looking to localise Denham with select creatives was the intention behind the concept from Denham South Africa’s Brand Team. The team believe, Farai mirror’s key cornerstones of Denham’s design philosophy – ‘worship tradition, destroy convention’ and was therefore a natural first choice to execute this vision.

Samurai Farai is no stranger to collaborations, adding Denham to his already impressive work of projects. Be sure to make time to check out the installation at Hyde Park Corner and head to Denham In Hyde Park Corner or The V&A Waterfront, to get a pair of denims like no other.

/// CREDITS

DENHAM SA : @denham.sa

SAMURAI FARAI : @samurai_farai

DOP’s : @mziie_artist @oupamaesela / @mybizzpromo

EDITOR : @mziie_artist

MUSIC : @realzvri

Consciousness and Care with Fashion Photographer Cris Fragkou

Whenever Cris is home in Cape Town, she’s bright-eyed and buzzing – back with her mountain, the crashing ocean waves and among the humans & homies that are her first and foremost inspiration before all else. Last year – although it feels much, much longer ago – we had a conversation that I wrote about here, so this conversation is volume 2; and for a ‘fashion’ photographer (we get into that), we discuss very little fashion. This is precisely why I think Cris remains one of the most critical and growing forces in the industry, because in an uncontrived and absolutely sincere way; Cris’ work is human-centric, and fashion happens to be the art-form that she has found to be the most interesting means to capture the creative anima of people; from the designers’ and houses’ collections, to the models and street-fashion crowds alike. We had planned to discuss retrospective takes on Cris’ summer season in Milan, Paris and London – and end up uncovering the thread of consciousness that has seemed to emerge as Cris’ anchor in all aspects of her life. Perched on the curbside at Clarke’s, our conversation reminds me why story-telling and conversation stay coursing through my veins. 

Who said you can’t find enlightenment while working in fashion?

“Summer was great and being at the couture shows – I love it so much – everything that gets produced is a reminder of, ‘oh this why we do this’ in this industry. It gives me a refuel to keep pushing in what is a highly stressful, tight scheduling of shows that are months of work crammed into two weeks of high-pressured showcases.” Cris says, having landed a few days ago back in Cape Town. Cris’ IG expresses swathes of editorial level BTS at some of the most prestigious and prolific fashion labels on the entire planet – from Chanel, to Iris Van Herpen and Loewe. Cris has become a fixture in and of herself during fashion week, forging relationships – living bi-continetally in many ways between Europe and Africa. This year has seen Cris partnering with the likes of Net-A-Porter, British Council and Vogue Magazine; seeding a reputation for exceptionally lit and captured moments, often set for release almost as they happen; keeping up with the ceaseless demand for fashion content on social media. Working with Vogue to create reels hot-off-the-press, Cris comments on the changing nature of being an image-maker in an increasingly digital world; “We had been speaking about doing reels in the weeks leading up to it, and I had to remind myself that adapting and rolling with the times is necessary. This is what is performing well – and while reels are not the most artistically nourishing, I also have to be responsible with my livelihood, and do the work that has been offered to me by spaces I’ve only ever dreamed of working with. Separating my ego has been critical – and actually, I’m happy for my ego to die several times a day lately – it opens up space for spontaneity and nourishment that I wouldn’t have arrived to meet on my own.” The original concerns for Cris lay in the seemingly indistinguishability that cellphones have created between content creators and photographers – would she be taken seriously, backstage with an iPhone in hand instead of her gear? Cris says, “It comes back to this ego-death thing. I have to stand for myself in situations where I get pushed out the way without my camera, because I didn’t need to carry it around when doing the reels, so people think I’m just there to fan over the show. Asserting my ground, and being grounded enough in my work, is teaching me to value myself before I need the value of anyone around me.”

Physically, mentally and emotionally demanding – the life of constant travel and movement is intrinsic to Cris’ career. A theme she has had to grapple with is knowing her heart belongs in South Africa, but that her vision for her career has required spending months abroad – and in this way, Cris is no stranger to strong doses of existential crises; “I had one of those experiences of like, take the hard drive and throw it in the ocean – that I had never made a single good photo – and someone I spoke to early this year blurted out to me that I could never be a successful fashion photographer if I wasn’t based out of Europe. It was someone that I very much respect in the industry, and my jaw dropped – that statement burned into me for weeks after that. Every editor and person I met for a week after that, I asked them if they thought this was true. Thankfully, I was deterred from that belief – and reminded that South Africa is up and coming, it’s a prime place to be and to be from. To place a geographic limitation on anyone’s success is just the close-minded attitude that has driven so much of fashion being centralised to Europe.” 

We’re seeing, more than ever, the power and might of other regions in the world that are set to supersede the old guard and create a new way of fashion expression.

For Cris, her awakening as a being on this earth has been fundamental to how she continues to envision and act out her career. Meditating between shows and back stage for at least 10 minutes is part of her overall energetic well being – and on how her consciousness has informed the last year, she says, “I listened to a podcast by Ram Dass, and he was talking about the idea of doing our work – whatever it is and whoever we are – as an act of service to others and God. This was five days into fashion week, this past season, and it reminded me that it’s not necessarily about image-making. In my soul, it lights me up to light other people – and I have a lot of fun with people, and I have this opportunity to capture people in their full presence. I have an ability to energise people and it’s taken a long time to be able to acknowledge that. How can I bring joy to other people?” The mark of an artist is the ability to diversify their practice – and remain ever-aware of what motivates their reasoning for creating, “Just before I left Cape Town in May, I put something on my Instagram saying I wanted to take portraits of people. I managed to do it with two people – and it really ignited something in my soul. One of the people, Johan from The Other Radio – and I did this together, where we spent the day together connecting and I shot images of him candidly. It ended up being one of the most meaningful experiences I’ve had this year. I had started to get in touch with my spirituality again, and with that came a wobble around whether fashion photography fulfilled me – am I contributing to something that’s not actually meaningful? If I slow down the outcome of what I create, and focus on being present with the creation, magic happens. With Johan, the images came out of us talking – it just started pouring out of us, talking about sex, love, death – parents, pain – or getting older and relating to the pain of being an adult, and self-acceptance. We cried, laughed and my heart was racing – it was like we were creating and deepening an energy of revealing ourselves to each other. That is the truth and intimacy of art – that sharing and connection – and it’s the process I’ve now realised I need to return to again and again as a photographer.”

Soon after our conversation, Cris is off again – and by the time this article is released, she will have been in Copenhagen for fashion week. It’s clear that Cris’ spirit is perhaps disguised as a fashion photographer; but her intention and mission is so much deeper – to be a beacon of light, and an anchor in love, no matter the context or city. As the Zen Buddhist saying goes; before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water – after enlightenment? Chop wood and carry water. The divine in the mundane, and the utter joy of being human and embracing it all – is precisely what spiritual mastery entails.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

tiro! releases new EP “Gymkhana” on Roses Are Red

The latest growth iteration of talented Johannesburg producer tiro! celebrates the showcasing of “Gymkhana” at Roses Are Red. Six wildly exciting new winners with diversity to reflect the scope of his output both past and future. It showcases an exercise in grabbing hold of your regrets and turning them into art. To embrace new worlds, new dimensions, directions and challenges. To shake the past from off your boots, find your tribe and just let go for once.

tiro!’s Gymkhana is here to hold your hand, whether you knew you needed it or not. And with it comes the chance to participate in the next step of an ever-fascinating personal journey, swerving through the smoothest, most rejuvenating edges of House music and life itself via six of the freshest necessities. It’s all the thrills of a new start. It’s taking its knocks and throwing itself into the next adventure with love. So, if you’re looking for that new path too, walk it with us and let the happy tears roll like bass lines into infinity.

“Soft Serv at the County Fair”  is unassuming but playful; the perfect, tenderly psychedelic icebreaker. A rousing introduction you can only hope holds you in its enchanting rhythm forever. Or just until “For Drew” calmly begins to stir you with a mystic’s energy, expanding and contracting in its hypnotic ascending repetitions, the living, driving pulse oh-so-lightly shaking your bones. And it’s all in preparation for the entrancing Bailando Con Mis Hombres” and how it reverberates through you like the giant pounding walls of some futuristic underground disco. Where flashing lights can reach into you and you move as one with those around you. With a remix by DJ Born Again Virgin that brings it up through the earth and into hyperspace to show us the highs and lows of cosmic travel. “Fresca’s” our return to just above the atmosphere – an idyllic cloud-riding trip over the grounds of House music heaven, with a party on the front lawn of the pearly gates at night. It’s a call to tomorrow’s greater days. You don’t have to stop dancing till you want to. At least not until “Hey” Fever’s final curtain call – at which, when you’re ready, we’ll tuck you in sweetly under the stars with a long drink in your hand and your good friends at Roses Are Red all around you, smiling wide.

/// Presave Gymkhana on this Fanlink and look out for the release on Friday, August 24 at 12:01 AM.

/// Listen to the Bandcamp release

Natalie Paneng Creates Her Own Wave

Suspending oneself directly into one’s artistic practice can be a kind of metaphor for the intimacy and directness that art demands of its creators – yet, with new media artist Natalie Paneng – this metaphor is literal, and inextricable as she lends various threads and dimensions of herself (as characters and alter-egos) into all that she creates. New media art – compromised of technologically-driven mediums such as interactive art, sound art, graphics, animations video art – provide a kind of veneer behind which Natalie has been able to peer down into the development of her practice, and in doing so – has created an astoundingly kaleidoscopic, dreamy and surreal vantage point for her work to be seen from. Natalie’s work gives me the kind of feeling I remember having in my early teens discovering Tumblr – where my own sense of individuation was able to take place through the internet, and perceiving creative expression through the matrix of the world-wide-web felt endlessly exhilarating, inspiring – and perhaps even liberating. Images, GIFS, videos – creators and personas – that allowed me to sort through the aesthetic variations I felt inside my own mind. With the digital world, we can be anything; and gather all the strands of subcultural, visual and sonic material that befit who we feel we are, not just who we feel determined to be in the physical world. Natalie, shows us, the multiplicity of her essence in this regard; she is otherworldly, but of this world – inspired by genres like vaporwave, but creating her wave too – a world-builder and cosmic progenitor who brings the purity of her inner-child along with her every step of the way.

Prior to Natalie becoming the artist as we know – the plan was always to study law. I struggle to picture Natalie in the dull confines of a courtroom or performing legal administration, but I think her hope in justice makes total sense to the kind of joyful being that she is. On this, she says, “I was planning on being a lawyer throughout high school, and I applied for law at UCT and Wits – and on the last day of applications for drama and performance at Wits, I applied – it was very spur of the moment – and they only accepted around 40 kids. I did the auditions, and I got in. I had to break it to my parents that all these years of school were centred around a prospective law degree – and I was academic, so the goal was for me to continue that into adulthood, but they allowed me to be myself and study performance, even if they didn’t quite understand it then. I hated being on stage, ironically. That time gave me the space to see where I could fit into performance, but on my own terms – without the gut wrenching anxiety of being on stage. I started using digital mediums like video and editing – and taking elements of what I was learning in my degree – to envision a way of performance that encompassed me, rather than me boxing myself into a script. My first alter-ego was Nice, an online performance called Hello Nice which followed the experience of a girl embarrassing herself online, and began this process of inquiry into personas online and what digital expression means.” Natalie’s expression of alter-egos is a signature among her work – a means to channel performance in a way that is situated in the precise environment that she not only wants, but builds herself. This experience of character plus environment is a study on world-building; and allows Natalie to bring forth as much of her imagination as she can in the finest details of colour, digital set design, costume; and in all, showcases Natalie’s  immense variation of skill sets. On this idea of expressing herself through a prism of alter-egos, Natalie says, “A big part of it is wanting to be perceived, but not directly – and not wanting to always be perceived as myself. I’m figuring myself out, so characters allow me to understand elements of myself in isolation. I can present without an experience of embarrassment – instead, I can enter a space of freedom and play without any concerns. Even naming a character differently to me adds a degree of separation from my own self. Another aspect to my use of alter-egos is presenting my experience of being ‘other’ – and I always felt different any way, and I was always looking for those characters in the world, like weird, black girls that could connect to my context. So I built them, the cartoon characters or beings that I wish I had growing up; and in environments that can actually live on through the digital world, instead of a temporary show or play.”

Natalie’s worlds are astounding and enriched by cyber-stylised colours and textures – a collection of her videos such as ‘Alien Sound Experiment’, ‘can’t escape dreamscape’ and ‘Out of this world ft. Elone Musty’ stands alongside portals like ‘Something Like CoStar’ – varying aspects of a growing archive that bring together Natalie’s interpretation of cyber-genres, pop culture and technology. In terms of describing what she does as an artist, Natalie explains, “Being a ‘new media artist’ is the best way I could define it, but it’s hard to describe what I do – and that’s because it is new, this whole landscape of digital art is still so young compared to other ways of creating and making. I’m looking for the language that contextualises it within South African art, and new media is a great umbrella term to frame my practice. There’s a part of the tangible and intangible that is presented in my work – like the juxtaposition between performance, which is a tangible act performed by a real human being, contrasted in a digital and intangible world. This tension has led me to create installations and light art recently, because I started to feel like my work was quite flat – or 2D – and I felt like I wanted to draw the digital worlds out into the physical world. It’s an interesting continuation of my practice in two realities – online and offline.” For Natalie, her practice is co-current to her experience as a person in the world – and the boundaries she can create with digital facing work has meant that she can work out presentation of her art in a way that is aligned with her growth, saying “It’s funny, because I’m still not at a point yet where I want to fully articulate what I’m doing – because I don’t actually know, yet, where this going. I like this surprising aspect of my work, so I’m finding ways to keep communicating what I’m doing without having to fully speak about it, and ultimately box myself in by giving too much of a narrative.”

The spirit of play is fundamental to Natalie’s work – and while there are references to many things in her work – her art is born entirely from her own experience of reality. Natalie’s childhood as an often serious and quiet kid with a swirling inner-world is able to be channelled through the safety and autonomy that she has now as an adult – but it comes down to keeping her childhood continuing and intact, as art allows adulthood to be a second childhood; this deep sincerity comes alive in the utter joy it is to experience Natalie’s work, in a world where art seems to be a very serious, grown-up career, ‘’I’m looking for light, and I try to make light in my work – so the physical light work I’ve been making is intended to be that illuminating factor – but also the lightness of energy in my work, too. So I’ve dug deep to find my own light and my centre, and try to make what is real in my head, real on the outside. My childhood brain and heart is my source, and reconnecting with my own dreams – and the dreams of my little self –  and the older I get, the more I feel free and closer to protecting the dreams of what I wanted to see in the world, and what I want other little, weird black girls to see in the world. Art allows me to share who I am, and to not be isolated, and not have to explain myself too much; I let the art do that for me.”

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Recreating art history through an African lens with Zandile Tshabalala

“I tend to think that having that extreme colour, that kind of black, is amazingly beautiful… and powerful. What I was thinking to do with my image was to reclaim the image of blackness as an emblem of power.”

– Kerry James Marshall

Opening on 2 July 2022 at the enigmatic Johannesburg-based BKhz Gallery nestled on Keyes Avenue in Rosebank, Zandile Tshabalala presented her first solo exhibition on South African soil, titled ‘Lovers in a secret place’.

For those of you who may now know her (yet), Zandile Tshabalala is a Soweto-born fine artist and a recent graduate from the University of the Witwatersrand. Her work speaks to contextualising art history through a Black narrative – Our narrative – and is laced with her reinterpretation of culture through an African lens. I’ve been quietly-yet-ardently following Tshabalala’s art career – from nascent global exhibitions right through to collaborations with global luxury fashion houses such as Bottega Veneta, and more. I found her artist bio, posted on the BKhz Instagram, in the lead up to her first local solo exhibition to be an apt description of what her work resembles:

“Born in Soweto, South Africa, Tshabalala’s work expresses her interests in topics of representation particularly the representation of the Black women in historical paintings. The artist noticed a pattern whereby the Black woman in paintings was usually placed at the background and starts to disappear almost as if she is not present or is placed in compromising situations that reinforce the idea that the black woman is inferior and should be marginalised. 

The artist felt a strong need to challenge these ideas and give back the Black woman’s voice in her paintings by placing the Black female figure in a powerful position that allows her to be in control of her own body and the gaze that is exchanged between her and the viewer. The artist then starts to tap into topics of beauty, sensuality and the relationship between the Black female body and the landscape.”

This relationship to recreating culture according to the Black woman’s perspective is evident within stand-alone works such as ‘Lady in Pink Stilettos’ (2021) and ‘Sweetest love’ (2022), which formed part of the ethereal exhibition recently held at BKhz. The latter even introduced a collaboration with FF Rooftop Farm for the work planting the indoor garden to accommodate the opening.

There’s a new vanguard of young Black fine artists taking control of their personal narratives, and translating their work globally. Tshabalala is right at the forefront of it and ‘Lovers in a secret place’ was an enchanting experience, eloquently and expertly curated by the BKhz team. This team included the owner of the gallery himself, Banele Khoza, and his team of Papi Konopi, Kwanele Kunene, Mankebe Seakgoe and Francesco Mbele. And aside from the art pieces being displayed by Tshabalala, the main highlight from the entire exhibition is how her work invites all audiences to come engage, and enjoy, the artistic experience.

On the night of the opening, you could see the room filled with just as many Gen Z’ers and Millennials as parents and grandparents. That’s the magic of Tshabalala’s work – she has the inherent ability to earnestly relay her human experience, and source genuine inspiration from her culture and ancestry. Engaging with her art feels so honest and integral; I liken it to the feeling of finally remembering. The feeling of celebrating an extremely joyous occasion at home with your people can be attached to the same palpable feeling of excitement rotating through BKhz on that opening nigh, in which the team had create an indoor forest of living, breathing plant life to accompany – an immersive experience, situating the viewer in the garden itself. 

To speak a bit more on Tshabala’s artistry and technique – her work primarily consists of using acrylic and oil paints in order to create her signature dreamlike dark-figures. Immediately once I saw a Tshabalala artwork for the first time, it reminded me of the work of the American legendary Black fine artist, Kerry James Marshall. So, when researching Tshabalala’s discography for this article, it was reaffirming to come across the following on her artist bio on Artsy:

“Zandile Tshabalala’s arresting figurative works write new narratives around the roles that Black women play in art history. Inspired by artists like Kerry James Marshall, Henri Rousseau, and Njideka Akunyili-Crosby, as well as personal experiences, Tshabalala says her portraits are meant to “to re-represent the Black woman in a more confident, sensual, beautiful manner.”

Using acrylic and oil paints, her dark-skinned figures recline on taupe chaise lounges and cloudlike cream duvets, or are situated within teeming, dreamlike landscapes reminiscent of Rousseau’s Post-Impressionist paintings. By situating her figures within settings that were painted over and over again throughout the history of art—landscapes, sensual boudoirs, the artist’s studio—Tshabalala deliberately inserts Black women into the canon that had previously excluded, marginalised, and disrespected them.”

And the artist continues to infiltrate the global art diaspora and spread her wings, showing no signs of slowing down the creative momentum which she has managed to amass over the past few years. Not too long ago, she formed part of a group exhibition at the prestigious Art Basel exhibition in Switzerland, and is now concurrently running another exhibition, ‘In search of my mother’s garden’, at Kunstmuseum Magdeburg, a prestigious art museum in Germany.

Tshabalala is the embodiment of what it means to be an emerging global talent – a young artist who valiantly promotes her African heritage, and empowers where she comes from.

Lovers in a secret place’ is on until 20 August at BKhz Gallery in Johannesburg.

/// View the show virtually

Written by: Odwa Zamane

The Amazing World of Broke Boys

“This one is dedicated to every individual who has supported us, relates with us, engaged with us and more importantly; it’s for those who believe in the power community.” – BROKE 

With tickets selling out in under five minutes for the Broke Runway Showcase, it was almost certain that last Saturday, 30 July, would be a whirlwind. Powered by Lemkus and hosted on the 3rd Floor of their Exchange Building (the venue for Cape Town’s summer community staple, The Stockroom Show) – when Ace and the homies said fashion show, they meant it. Arriving on site was itself a heightened experience – the setup, laid out white chairs snaking around the space, giving way to an intimate runway akin to what we might see of exclusive shows in Paris held in historic buildings – were filling up with the city’s creative community, dressed head to toe in the finest looks we’ve seen all gathered in one space in Cape Town. Moments like that, make one realise how hungry the city is for events and spaces that unite all of us under the banner of sartorial expression and community; a rare occasion, indeed, outside of the nightlife scene. The room gave way to seating that felt welcoming, and with anticipation, the room filled up – with conversation and excitement brewing stronger with every second.

A slight delay in the schedule meant only that everyone could ready themselves – friends of Broke arrived, greetings and hugs occurred – with welcome drinks in hand, served by Brooks Hard Seltzer. Then, our attention was called; the show was about to begin.

Beaming into the room over the speakers, we hear the voices of the Broke Boys – one by one, recounting what Broke means to them. Gratitude for the family behind this collective (of which their apparel brand forms one aspect, albeit a central one) – saying how Broke is family, it is community, it’s getting out of the hood and towards your dreams alongside your brothers. The feeling of love was rising; and then, then the first model walked out, making their way around the room. The initial offerings of T-Shirts is a Broke staple – and a strong reminder of their streetwear roots, as profound to be on a runway simply for what the Tee means to access our favourite brands like Palace or Stüssy. Then, the outerwear – a power moment of note – and something we haven’t seen before from creative director, Andile Dlamini. Inspired by workwear and athletic apparel, jackets with phrases like “BROKE SPORTING GOODS” and “BROKE EQUIPMENT – SINCE 2016” added a new reservoir of signatures to the brand’s future, and indicates a full entry for Broke into streetwear design.

The exchange of energy between the crowd and the looks we were receiving was incredible – from the quiet, observant moments to the shouts of joy – that by the time Andile did his designer’s walkthrough and bow, everyone was going wild. The collection was immediately shown on the 2nd Floor, ready to be purchased.

Once again, Lemkus’ support for local streetwear, forged through community and collaboration, makes the possibilities of the Exchange Building unimaginable and exciting – and as for Broke? Given everything they’ve done so far, and for it still to feel like just the beginning of their worldwide domination, is poignant.

Broke’s latest collection is available to shop online at lemkus.com / every Saturday from 10am to 2pm at The Stockroom Show.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

/// Studio images by Lemkus’ Creative Head, Calhoun Matthews

/// Show images by Gidion Felix 

South Africa’s Patron Saint of Pink, Phuti Styles

Visions of bubblegum pink in cohesive, regular doses has been a rarity in recent memory – as if a hangover from the 90s and Y2K pop cultural eras of magenta and rose as essential design features (Von Dutch and Juicy Couture, anyone?) – the 2010s saw minimalism and monochromatism as the antidote to these kaleidoscopic altars of our aesthetic tastes. Imbued with a deep sense of feminine quality – whether socially ascribed or energetically felt – pink is bold and brave, and Mmaphuti Movundlela is its patron saint in South Africa. Having only just graduated from Durban University of Technology from their Fashion & Textiles course, Phuti is already a polymath and namesake in South African fashion. Between running two businesses – P EXOTIC and and Closet Chipi – and styling iconic figures for Cottonfest, or playing photographer, model and muse – Phuti is a chameleon and shapeshifter when it comes to gaining experience in every role that the fashion industry has to offer. Infused with her curiosity and willingness to adapt, Phuti is also beaming with light, complexity and grit; a symphony of exceptional factors for a sartorial-star-in-the-making.

“I was born in Tembisa, Joburg, but I grew up in the North West in Rustenburg – so I speak Tswana, even though I’m not actually Tswana. Olebongeng Morapedi founded Ogorgeous Model Master Classes, and I saw a poster in a taxi for a casting – and coming from Rustenburg, there was nothing there in the way of fashion. She was teaching young girls how to model, alongside her designer friends who were dressing the shows. It was a beautiful entry into the space, but I realised I actually liked making the clothes and dressing up – and people responded to my style. I actually had a black phase, it was the only colour I wore; so I’ve done a 360 in my style.” Phuti reflects in our conversation, making the case that often we are born into a love for fashion and expression; no matter where we are situated, or how far such a career and reality may feel outside of major fashion cities like Johannesburg represents in South Africa. “On weekends, friends and I would have photoshoots and play around with clothing – it has always been my way of sharing who I am, or what mood I’m in. Thrifting was the way I could constantly reshape my style, and add the kind of flair I wanted to my outfits. It grew organically from there, when people showed interest in my clothing and so I started selling pieces to them. I used to make chokers, and caps with fur lining. A few years later, the modelling school reopened and I was asked to be the in-house photographer, as I had a camera and had been documenting my style and world for a while. I’ve been able to be very familiar with many aspects of fashion, and while design is probably my central role – I think having flexibility as a creative is really important, and to learn every part of what makes up the work we do in this industry.”

Inspired by the emphasis on fashion in early 2000s films like Princess Diaries and Mean Girls, Phuti’s sartorial spirit is her devotion to the joy of dressing. In a country where “civvies” is the exception rather than rule in the schooling system, fashion is a refuge from the rigid projections we are taught regarding our identities.  After school, Phuti began attending SA Fashion Week – purely out of curiosity – taking her camera with her, to document and bask in the work of local designers, and to peer behind the veil of how it all works in the industry. Phuti has a tenacious ability to reinterpret cultural inspirations from US-centric music and films through a decidedly South African lens; drawing on the local ingenuity of expression she grew up around, in a way that feels even cooler than whatever TV may have shown us. On these fashion show days, “I would buy a ticket for a show I really wanted to see at fashion week, and go by myself, walking around with my camera – and I’d meet people I knew from social media, and once I was even asked to sit in the front row because of my outfit; so I think all those moments, of just arriving in this spaces and knowing I belonged there, were build-blocks to my career now. This one time at a show, I saw DUT (Durban University of Technology) students showcasing, and at that time I had been accepted by LISOF; but my mom had expressed the financial challenge in going to a private design school. Those fees are no joke. So, after researching DUT – I knew this was the school I wanted to go to, with alumni like Katekani Moreku – so it seemed like a great fit. One of my lecturers was Kiara Gounder, who is a prominent 3D accessories designer locally and internationally – so DUT gave me the best nurturing and guidance I could have asked for.” Phuti touches on a poignant sentiment regarding the state of fashion education in South Africa; with an immense focus on expensive, privatised institutions – a career in fashion can seem even more inaccessible. Yet, in my humble opinion, a school like CPUT also has one of the best fashion departments in the country; and is Lukhanyo Mdingi’s former school.

Speaking on her label, Phuti says, “My business partner for P EXOTIC, Aphiwe Gxawu, is a fellow student at DUT, and we met in Durban. We started doing our own thing, and it was actually born out of not having anything to wear for a night out – so we’d make cute outfits like two hours before heading to the club. That’s one of the coolest moments from learning design and how to sew; when we realised we could make exactly what we needed, that’s the core of what we do. P EXOTIC is the story of us as girls getting ready, and sharing that with our customers. We are both in Joburg now, but P EXOTIC is inspired by the sexiness and style of people in KZN.” The emphasis on fashion in South Africa tends to be central to Joburg and Cape Town, yet Durban is an unsung city and influence; home to Mr Price’s headquarters, with a laidback, coastal spirit – Phuti reflects, ‘’A lot of people in Durban make their own clothes. Normal, regular households will have a sewing machine, and there’s so much fabric and textile history in Durban which I think has been overlooked. And the general style is not mainstream, either – which is really interesting – because I think fashion is really about individual people expressing themselves. I think there’s a lot of recognition that needs to be paid to Durban, and for the rest of the country to bring them closer into the fold of the fashion industry. I loved my time there, there’s so many different cultures and just a different way of life than I’ve experienced elsewhere in the country.” Phuti has since moved to Joburg, a natural progression towards being in the central hub for brand-building, design and creative direction. Here, she plans to continue growing P Exotic and Closet Chipi  – with the latter being a thrifting store that she runs with Maipelo Kaledi, carefully curated to reference looks of films from the past. One thing about Phuti and her friends? Their taste and touch will be on everything they do, uniquely and exceptionally so.

Phuti’s expression of pink is perhaps her most key signature – never failing to show a thousand ways and shades that this hue can be adorned. “Pink is a lighter shade of red, and it’s significant because we think it’s really girly, but I read that it was once worn by men in war. It has a really influential history in colour theory. I love the way it makes me feel, and the contrast of the colour on my skin. It’s also my mom’s favourite colour – and it represents such strong feminine energy. I think there’s a lot of narratives attached to the colour, and I like to challenge those perceptions – it’s my base colour from which I build every other colour I wear, but also, it’s just my favourite colour, and on black skin? That’s strawberries and chocolate, is there a more delicious combination?” Phuti states, ending our conversation with a definitively beautiful arc.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Anita Hlazo’s Custodianship of Grunge in Africa

Preceding the definition of “grunge” as an alternative rock sound and subculture ascended to cult-like heights, emanating from Seattle and outward into the sonic lexicon of the world – and before its heavy associations with thrifted clothing slapped together and white men with long, unkempt hair – there was Tina Bell. Now considered the “Godmother of Grunge” – it has taken a few decades for dues to be paid toward this ineffable black, female lead singer of Bam Bam, to whom the very origins of the grunge phenomena is owed; as it was Tina’s who began blending the shrills of heavy rock with moody, melodic vocals all within in the same song; alongside her enigmatic stage-persona and unbridled embodiment of the true punk spirit. It’s with Tina in mind, that I approach my conversation Anita Hlazo – both of us cognisant of what grunge meant to us as teenagers, many years after the subculture had all but peaked and faded into the obscurity of archived Tumblr archives. Anita is the founder and designer of Afrogrunge: a fashion brand (and community space) that seeks to diverge from the stereotypical tropes projected onto black people, and for Anita; a celebration of her experience as a black woman deeply influenced and raised by punk sentiments, grunge aesthetics and alternative music. The brand is officially four years old – but in fact, the Afrogrunge spirit is much older than that; and Anita feels she is mostly a custodian for the fusion of “afro” and “grunge” : and that the brand is her way of giving her younger self total permission to engage fully in the lineage of rock subcultures that is in fact, the birthright of all black people.

Grunge as a concept has always been with me, since the end of grade 11. It came about as a form of identity for myself, because it spoke to my own experience. I was living with my grandparents in Gugulethu, and I didn’t feel too connected to the cultural norms around me – so I discovered a lot online. Grunge described, visually and emotionally, how I felt at the time. I started to see myself in this space – but I also wanted to honour being afro, African – and being a black girl drawn to this space. After using key phrases like “grunge” and “black girl”  to search online, I used the term “afrogrunge”, there was one editorial that I found, but nothing else. So nobody had claimed it yet, and there was no representation of black people specifically with grunge. I wanted to create the image that I wanted to see online.” Anita found herself drawn to being a designer, and presented this strength of concept to one of her lecturers; who felt she was onto something big. On this, she says, ‘’I learned design in university, so the brand itself started in 2018 – because that’s when I could sew and construct, and channel my aesthetic into a more specific offering- but it’s drawn on all my experiences and passion from before then. My first collection at school was encouraged by my lecturer at the time, who had no reference point for what I wanted to do; but I remember explaining it to him, and he was writing down every point I was making – and told me to go for it. He wanted to see what it was. The funny thing is, the collection ended up being mostly pink – which is not very grunge – but I think that’s where my own interpretation comes in, because there are no rules to the subcultures because the essence of grunge is to not care. I like that I’ve been able to build my own design language the way I have with Afrogrunge.”

Anita is obsessive with construction, and Afrogrunge’s quality and sewing is her homage to everything she learned at school – that detail is critical. Regarding the linear process from moodboard to sketch to mock-up, and then a final look, Anita comments “Things always turn out differently at the end, and that’s just the nature of designing. Design is problem-solving, so the challenges you meet along the way can influence change in ways you might never have expected, and that’s really exciting to me. I’m learning how to navigate the fusion between blackness and grunge; I don’t want to put too much of either as a fixed idea into what I make, because I don’t want it to feel forced. I always have to go back to my own aesthetic.” The total co-opting of punk and grunge toward a white-centric narrative is very far from its origin; and as such, makes Anita’s task an exceptionally important reassertion of grunge as wholly inclusive and plural. “I think the way rock has been represented hasn’t always told the full story. I also think that many people across these subcultures – whatever colour or culture you are – can be considered the outcasts, or fringe members of society. To know that blackness is within these spaces, in its origin, makes me realise that I am not actually bringing two opposing ideas together; but that I’m actually just remembering the full scope.” As Anita grows up alongside Afrogrunge, it has become more evident that the spirit of grunge is inextricable to her own spirit. Anita has created a space for other black kids growing up to see themselves in alternative ways,  “When I was imagining Afrogrunge in high school, I had an idea for a shop and a hang out place for grunge black people and people of colour. That’s still part of the dream, because all of this has taken place online; but I want to have a physical space where Afrogrunge can be a home for kids like me. It’s hard to measure how much of an impact Afrogrunge has had yet – but I think people are starting to see what I said for, and what story I’m wanting to tell.”

Anita has recently caught the attention of Sportscene, particularly their Redbat POSSE initiative: a range centred around activism in Gender-Based Violence, in which the 100% of the proceeds are donated to important work being done in South Africa to challenge the patriarchy and create safe spaces for women. “This thing is so big. It’s been a huge teaching moment – for myself as a designer, but also in terms of industry experience. I’ve always worked for myself and on my own, so to have the kind of guidance and mentorship that Redbat has provided is invaluable. Three designers were chosen to redesign and re-interpret the new Redbat POSSE collection for a campaign, in order to market a competition; showcasing what the entrants will be doing in the competition. I was able to challenge myself creatively, and to use the Redbat samples to offer an Afrogrunge expression as the final look. On the 5th of August, we will be attending the final showcase and competition. Our looks will be auctioned off, and It has such a strong sense of giving back, and to highlight Gender-Based Violence. It’s encouraged me to see how powerful fashion can be in the right hands, and with the right intentions.” Anita’s year has been one of the most successful in the journey so far; with 2022 showing her that there is money and value to what she has always been doing for her younger self and self-expression. The future’s looking bright, and perhaps with a lot less apathy than associated with grunge – but certainly that anything is possible with the attitude of rebellion.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Interlude Chapter 07 | The Case for Luxury Resale

Our awareness around sustainability increases every day as we face impending questions about our collective consumption. Fashion is interesting, in that exists at the juncture between artistic expression – and some of the most harrowing malpractices in production; costing the planet, and people, greatly. Fast fashion refers to the manner in which cheap clothing is made through extractive processes in factories with limited resources, and underpaid garment workers – as a response to our insatiable desire for keeping up with the latest trends. So, how do we solve this crisis and shift the narrative around the longevity of our wardrobes? Thrifting is a clear solution; in which garments have their life cycles extended – and furthermore, turning one’s attention to investing in luxury pieces creates an avenue in which consumers can curate garments that hold true meaning in their craftsmanship.

To determine what defines “luxury” – we need to understand the term in and of itself. There is a growing debate as to what defines luxury in fashion, however for this context – luxury refers to designer labels that produce collections defined by consideration, such as beautiful fabrication, thoughtful silhouettes and specific branding which have the ability to market at high prices. Here in South Africa, this refers to labels such as Thebe Magugu, Lukhanyo Mdingi and Rich Mnisi – whereas internationally, we can think of Prada, Vivienne Westwood and Louis Vuitton to name a few. While we generally have a smaller market in fashion than the global north, there is growing interest in curating vintage and newer pieces from luxury brands; through local, small scale curators, or from websites such as us.vestiairecollective.com – an incredible marketplace for previously owned luxury pieces, sold at retail value.

With the evolution of circular economies – linearity life-cycles of garments are challenged, and in the context of luxury resale, there is broadening of access for South African consumers. Stores like Afraid of Mice express the brick-and-mortar model of vintage curatorship; with its store in Harrington St. acting as a custodian for rare, vintage finds ranging from Hugo Boss jackets, Louis Vuitton handbags – to Burberry and Moncler. Vintage denotes the endurance of interest and quality associated with such finds, while allowing more room for the price-points; as opposed to the previously mentioned Vestiaire Collective, that tends to match retail value where possible. Without a website, Afraid of Mice holds true to its vision for nostalgia – and another such discreet store is Stock Exchange on Kloof St – with no social media presence in sight, it boasts a bare-bones store housing everything from Acne Studios to Isabel Marant. Reliability is key in luxury resale; with trusted spaces priding themselves on their ability to provide authentication of their collections. Ready-to-wear luxury centred on its youthful appeal appears to be the central vision for Dreamland Vintage – with iconic drops ranging from Chanel sweatshirts to Moscino jeans, with an emphasis on the 70s, 80s and 90s inspired sourced from the owner’s buying trips overseas. Spaces like The Changing Room and Meonyou Vintage are consignment based, and rely on their fashion communities in a closed-loop system of curation, authentication and distribution.

Known globally for their analysis across varying sectors, consulting firm McKinsey & Company’s report on luxury resale show that this manifestation is set to become a permanent fixture in the global fashion industry; perhaps not merely piquing the interest of luxury brands themselves, but rather resale may be pivoted and co-opted as part of the sustainability projectives increasingly non-negotiable for luxury houses to implement and action. The report states;  “The luxury resale market holds great promise for both customers and brands. Leading the way, largely, are customers, who are generally eager for established brands to play a larger role. For brands, if they choose to participate, it is a way to expand their offerings, appeal to committed client segments, stay abreast of digital innovation, and reinforce their sustainability efforts—if they can find ways to add meaningful value to loyal customers’ experience.” It will be interesting to see how this continues to rise in South Africa, where luxury fashion continues to remain integral for our countries’ participation in global sartorial consciousness.