A Balance of Hues and Inner-Home with Talya Galasko

Talya’s story as a film-director is steeped in sensory memory – and once you know this, the incredible colours and sounds that elucidate the suspended and active moments in her films feel all the more personal. I feel this deeply when watching Adi Koen’s character in Interlude grapple with languishing feelings of isolation and nostalgia, contrasted with the juiciness of citrus and subtle shades of lighting – a dreaminess and devastation somehow married together, synchronized through Talya’s ability to portray the delicate nuances that intertwine through the human experience.  Writing was Talya’s first love, and while the written word casts its own spell upon our imaginations – drawing on visual storytelling seems to deepen and broaden one’s own inner languaging. I know this for myself with my dabble in styling and image-making; and I suspect that most writers will tell you this truth; that there are some stories that can only be optically transmitted. 

“One of the biggest things I want to achieve in my work is to bring people to feel an experience that might not belong to them, or an experience that they might recognize. I want to create visibility around an experience, encouraging people to reach out and touch something unfamiliar, or familiar and forgotten. With Interlude, I needed to acknowledge this pervading loneliness I felt in lockdown – post break up, and without romanticizing but rather encapsulate the feelings I had, and perhaps reframe the loneliness into a  reflective solitude. You know when you are in that place – and you think it will never pass, or you will never be happy again – and I think Interlude is the outcome of finding comfort and beauty in that space.” says Talya in our conversation around Interlude, her 2020 film picked by Vimeo staff as a best short-film. Created with art director Adi Koen and cinematographer Deon van Zyl, the film is a poetic musing, and beautiful taste of Tayla’s practice.

It may seem like a clichéd question to ask an artist or creative on how colour informs their process – but I have never, ever received a clichéd answer; because it is such a personal, direct expression of someone’s practice; whether the relationship is maximal, muted or somewhere in between. Talya’s work exudes an impeccable command of colour theory, as if every inch of the frames in her work has been thought of – and on this, Talya says, “colour is emotional for me, and when I put these worlds together – there are certain colours that I know cannot go together. I am extremely sensitive to a balance between warm and cool tones; and I strive for that equilibrium in which the set feels totally held across a spectrum of shades. If there is orange in the frame, there will be green and if there’s blue, I will make sure there is a bit of red or yellow. I love the work to be vibrant but also harmonious, and in being bold I try to consider delicacy. In Interlude, the presence of oranges goes back to my memories as a child. My dad used to buy these big sacks of oranges when we went to the Kruger park, and we would put them on the floor under our feet and roll them, to soften it – and then you bite the top off and squeeze the juice. The colour, the taste – the heat of the day – can all be summed up for me in an orange. It’s symbolism like that which I think makes directing so exciting, because you can say so much without having to explain an entire story; everyone will have their own association.

Sexual liberation and thematic visibility (beyond even sex & gender) are still incredibly archaic – an almost regression from even antiquated times all over the world – and especially in South African advertising, there is still a very conservative approach to building commercial content. We can speculate with accuracy that this is a post-apartheid, patriarchal hangover – in an industry that is very, very male dominated and by white men specifically. In our conversation, we discuss the under-representation of women – “I think there is an intrinsic aspect to femininity that I have seen in women and femme-identified beings around me, of this expression of abundance. I realised that some of my pursuits in my work is a desire to recreate a time and place in which there was safety – enough food, or enough pleasure. Personally, there is a huge crossover for me with food and sexuality; the idea of either being nourishing, and giving us creative energy to exist. While that comes through in a feminine aspect, I also view this intersection as going back to my childhood – having to be an independent child from a young age – and that dichotomy between growing up and saying goodbye to one’s inner child. There is this desire to be seen as an independent human-adult; not a female human-adult, or director. It is assumed that the director is a white man – and as women in this industry, I don’t think we necessarily want our femininity to be a selling point.” Talya goes on to explain that women need to be taking up space on set almost inorganically and calculatedly so – as it’s so entrenched. It reminds me of something my partner often says about equality from the viewpoint of the patriarchy or white supremacy – that lack mentality has been so aggressively embedded in everyone, that the idea of equality for someone is a threat to the rights of another. This is an intensely distorted symptom of the system in this world; that the cogs on the wheels could collapse at any moment without the fixation on a hierarchical structure. I agree with Talya, that one has to assert its eventual collapse with almost a discretion, to draw gender and racial representation into a state of normalcy.

Lastly, Talya astounds with a statement that hits home for both CEC founder Candice and I – “Creating for free, in hopes of exposure, is dead.” This is said in reference to a sidetrack conversation, but an important one at that – when I express that the creative industry is one of the only in the world in which intellectual and creative property is exclusively demanded, for free – in order to “create” one’s career. I could talk for ages about this – and we did – but I think it’s a great epitaph to remind our creative community of their value. An important distinction one should make on this subject, Talya says, is to understand if the work you want to produce is for you or for a brand – passion projects can be made resourcefully, shot on an iPhone, because it elicits joy and refines your craft – and that same spirit can be explored when working with collaborators and brands, except there needs to be mutual exchange. I think this idea of value is a big theme for 2022; 2 symbolizing relationships and duality in numerology – and god, it’s so good speaking to women. To more. 

View Tayla’s work here:

Interlude (short film)
Voicenote (short film)
Milliways (commercial)
HAUS (commercial)
HUSH (GBV short film)
And more on talyagalasko.com

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Luxury as Integrity with Imran Mohamed

If you have had the pleasure of coming across ASA SADAN’s IG feed – you will know their epitaph is “luxury.heritage.tradition.modernity” – and these four words encapsulate the conversation I am grateful to have had with the label’s founder, Imran Mohamed. This conversation is one of those times when I really wish this was a podcast; because conveying the depth of the threads we discussed in written almost feels reductive – but I hope, as always, that I will do it justice.

Imran is a fascinating creative director – in the truest sense of what that title has come to mean in fashion today. We tend to create this mystique around the role of a creative director – imagining somehow that it is this person entirely who cut, sew and dress the garments – that they act alone, mysteriously so. I have often wondered if this is not a symptom of individualistic thinking in the west; that in order for something to be profound, it has to have originated from the mind and hands of one person – that we cannot, possibly, acknowledge the very truth of our nature as human beings; an existence that is wholly dependent on one another, no matter how compartmentalized the society is in which we operate. A creative director, in the way that I consider it, is someone from where the vision originates – or is grasped and put forth into tangible motion. It is the person entrusted to lead and draw out from those around them the very best aspects, for the momentum of an entire viewpoint. When the citrus-hued arabic-style monogram of ASA SADAN popped up on my feed through Duck Duck Goose – I was thrilled. I briefly discussed ASA in chapter 01 of Interlude – in which I said, ASA SADAN  makes the case for why sartorial lineages between cultures and communities will always be the original blueprint for everything we might see on the runway or in windows.” I stand by this sentiment particularly in the context of Imran’s work, especially after our conversation.

“I have always had an affinity for fashion and design – I was born into a family in which fashion was our bread and butter. My grandparents and mother and extended family were in the industry all in different roles – from managing factories, to my grandfather being a couturier and my mom had her own brand, and then became a senior brand for big retail groups in South Africa. My dad’s father moved from Joburg to Cape Town, I think in his forties, and reinvented his pathway – settling on men’s retail. He founded Skipper Bar, which brought trends and labels to South Africa during apartheid, where it was almost impossible to bring anything in. I think that time was around the 1970s/80s, when Grasshoppers came out locally, and internationally it was Lee Jeans.” Imran says, and the last line is a subtle gesture that makes me realize how deeply nostalgic fashion can be in Cape Town; its this juxtaposition of local heritage intermixed with global aesthetics; something which ASA SADAN has conveyed beautifully with the single pleat trouser – a nod to Cape Malay, Muslim tailors that are so embedded in the garment culture of the city – alongside the tech-wear tactical vest. 

“After I finished my honours at UCT, beginning in engineering and then moving into real estate, I started to see all these disciplines and practices as truly being varying models of design. I think fashion is just another medium to convey one’s perspective on how to build products and re-shape systems, and for me it’s always for the benefit of people. My fashion journey in the industry began at Corner Store alongside Two-Bop, Sol Sol and Young&Lazy – working with I and I as an intern. That was still a time when I think a lot of other places were not willing to share their knowledge or contacts, so Corner Store was pretty pivotal in that way. Shukrie Joel, the owner of I and I, was my mentor for six months, and he comes from a tailoring background, so his different take to traditional streetwear that we were seeing at the time influenced me a lot.” 

This journey between design and commercial product would eventually lead Imran to applying at Central Saint Martins for a masters program in Business Administration, merging artistic and creative practice with contemporary business principles – the school is somewhat of an enigma in the realm of fashion education, intensely difficult to get into, and has produced some of fashion’s most beloved designers and creatives from Lee McQueen, to Phoebe Philo and most recently creatives like Ib Kamara and Grace Wales Bonner. It is an institution that is built on fostering the most bold of fashion creatives. I think what makes CSM so unique is the array of pathways it offers; it is one of the few schools I know that encourages careers beyond just design. Imran’s initial drop for ASA SADAN “Dissertation Studies” is the evolution of his presented project at CSM; and is a commentary and inquiry into self-identity, cultural identity and how luxury can be reframed.

“I was in lockdown alone for four months, in London, only interacting with the cashier at the local Sainsbury’s every now and then. That time allowed for some deep reflection. I read a lot of books on South African history in tandem with strategic and psychological prescribed texts, and from that understood that there are so many stories that have not been told – or that we have barely begun to archive. In my own schooling background, SACS and UCT were both founded by Cecil John Rhodes, and we were taught that this man was a hero. When you do your own research; the truth is incredibly different. Uncovering the reality of how our country came to be made me realize how important South Africa actually is – the Dutch East India Trading Company would be valued at around $7-8 trillion in today’s terms. That’s around four times the value of Apple. That level of wealth was generated through oppressive systems and structures, in the advancement of colonization, and then we had apartheid; so I think it cannot be overstated how very new the idea of liberation in this country is. So when I was conceptualizing the label, and looking at my own heritage as being a Muslim, coloured man in South Africa, I wanted to address the stereotypes of how we have been boxed in stylistically – as ‘street’ culture. So on one hand I wore G-star and Nikes as a representation of our culture, and then on civvies day at a traditional white boys’ school – I am getting mocked and made fun of for doing so. My practice is therefore centered around breaking those narratives and boundaries, embodying our culture and heritage in the luxury it so deserves to be portrayed in, and I think when we understand fashion as the manifestation of identity and personality, we can see how powerful it is not just aesthetically, but also culturally and socio- politically.”

This sentiment shared by Imran, among many other moments in our conversation, is what informed my opening statement about him as a creative director. When we talk about intelligent design, we are not talking about design that is academically certified – or validated by any traditional models – rather, intelligent design is that which is created from the ability to view the multi-dimensional function of design to literally shape the world. It is the ability to understand how it has shaped the world until now – and then to reflect on how it should be done going forward. Good design advocates for equity through the prioritization of quality – good design, or true luxury, is the stripping back of everything we believe about materiality and novelty; and instead allowing fabrication, or construction, to serve as a symbol for the inner lives of oneself and one’s culture. This is the kind of design that fascinates me – that we see from other designers in South Africa such as Lukhanyo Mdingi, Thebe Magugu, Sindiso Khumalo and Rich Mnisi – among many others, established and emerging. In talking about whether he will build a collection or continue with drops, Imran says, “I think because we are really emerging as a luxury market in this country, it’s assumed that one can easily make 10 or 15 units of a garment. Factories here are looking at hundreds of units to pay their staff, maintain the facility etc – I am more interested in moving away from the model and timelines of excessive amounts of clothing made. I want ASA SADAN to show design that is relevant over time – to have pieces we make available to our community over two or more years rather than seasonal offerings. a work in progress, but I think  the small process changes we can do in-house as one example, can hopefully contribute to shifting our  ideas of quantity of product equating to quality.”

“To be able to be a creative director, you need to be able to understand every process. But you always need to be able to look around you, and see the value, skill and essence of the people that can create with you. All these hands are essential in building a brand. I am adept in technical understanding and articulating details, but can’t sew or cut a pattern at all! ASA has taught me to be incredibly diverse in the way I wear many hats – and I reference Lukhanyo (Mdingi) when I say this: ‘the power of the collective is greater than that of the individual’.” Imran says on this concept of creative direction. Speaking to Imran, I am affirmed at how much more we need in the way of educational spaces. We discuss institutional education, and the lack of infrastructure in South Africa; “Aside from institutional education, there is the grass-roots, on the ground education. One has to be connected and have their ear to the ground – there is a knowledge that just cannot be taught. It’s up to us as a collective to come together and create a library of resources.” With the pandemic, I have felt a sense of isolation even within the spaces that I have worked in and with the many incredible people I have come to know and talk to. I really feel enlivened by this conversation with Imran – there is a wisdom with which he speaks, and conveys critically the kind of conversations we need to be having in South African fashion, and honestly, I am thinking about podcasts, archives and the rallying of people together after this. We talk more about that, but I think that part of the conversation will have to have an ellipsis of intrigue…

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

SBX Releases Her New Album “These Songs Are About You Too”

“Music is the great water. An incredible force. (It’s) Something that people who differ on everything and anything else can have in common”.

The talented South African R&B singer & songwriter Sibahle Xulu, a.k.a. SBX, grew up in a family heavily influenced by music. Throughout school she had a passion for the arts, participating in concerts and the choir. Her early musical influences; Lionel Richie, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey and Beyonce, are now heard in the foundations of her musicality. SBX’s songwriting and relatable music come from her own experiences and those that most of her peers face daily.

In 2018, Sibahle began her studies in a Bachelor of Arts in Dramatic Arts at the University of Witwatersrand in Johannesburg; with the plan in mind to transition from acting and writing poetry, to writing songs and finally taking the big stage. In 2019, SBX recorded and released her first song, ‘Libra’s Interlude’, which prompted her to begin writing and recording a full project. A year later, she released her debut EP titled ‘These Songs Are About You’ catapulting her music career. With over 43 700 organic streams on Spotify and 31 200 on Apple Music, SBX has become an enviable force in the SA R&B music scene. To date, SBX has been featured on Iqhawe Magazine, Freshmen Magazine, SlikouronLife, Creators Live, YoMzansi and Zkhiphani as South Africa’s New R&B Sensation, Artist of The Month and Hot On The Streets.

In May of 2021, SBX released her first official music video for her radio single “4 U”, debuting at No.3 on Trace Urban’s Top 30 Charts and later on to MTV BASE and Channel O. To celebrate her debut’s success and to thank her supporters, she released two surprise songs; “Leo’s Exit” & “Midrand Drive” on Soundcloud; both which were featured on US-platinum producer Ye Ali‘s Twitch show. In 2021 ‘The SBX Story’ featured as the cover for Big Bang Magazine, with SBX dubbed as ‘R&B’s New Fearless Visionary’. SBX is now preparing for what looks to be an illustrious year for her. She has started 2022 with an 8-track audio sequel titled “These Songs Are About You Too” that was released on January 14th, debuting on Apple Music’s ‘New in R&B’ playlist.

Keep a lookout for SBX in the music scene, as she is set to drop a new radio single and music video with a surprise collaboration in the first quarter of this year.

/// Listen to “These Songs Are About You Too” on:

Spotify
Apple Music
Soundcloud
Tidal
YouTube Music

The Motions of Film + Travel with Josiah Suskin

Travelling is a privilege, and yet it is one of the truest forms of education I have known in my life – something handed to me from my own mum, who made it her mission as a single parent to afford me experiences in the world from a young age. It’s part of the reason I ended up in Vietnam in 2018 – and it was here, 10 000km from our own home city of Cape Town, that I ended up meeting Josiah. If you’ve ever hung out with homies from South Africa in another part of the world – you’ll know how all the more surreal it makes the experience. Although that was only four years ago, it feels like forever – and I think I speak for both Josiah and I when I say life has changed immeasurably, particularly in light of the pandemic. Even then, Josiah was immersed in film and photographing – and since then, he has gone to refine his career as a cinematographer and photographer, now calling Disco Creatives his agency home. Josiah is a visual story-teller; deeply curious, and is most inspired by Nature, and his partner & muse Chloe; I am grateful for this insight into how he got started, and the immeasurable value in creating a liberated life.

“I always wondered where video had emerged in my life that made me so enamoured with it. When I was studying at SAE in Woodstock, I recalled what it was; it started with stop-frame animations. I had this tiny Logitech webcam that came with this software, and I’d use plasticine to make the craziest animations. I even used my mom’s little steamer that she had for sewing to create mist and fog. So this group of stills was sort of the origin point at a young age, which later became my total fascination with film. I went to a Waldorf school, and the Class 12 project is a six month process where students are encouraged to focus on building or creating – so some people build cars, or houses – pretty much anything that ignites their passion – and I shot a down-hill skating documentary. That solidified my love and passion, waking up every single day to sunrise, skate and shoot.” Josiah says, on finding the freedom to do what he loved even in school. It’s interesting, because I have had a lot of conversations around education recently in the context of creative careers; and it is such a balance between the right environment or infrastructure, and then the nurturing of self-direction in young people. More and more we are realizing the necessity of following a path that affords a life worth living – and while this cannot be said without the acknowledgement of the privilege that provides the access to this, I have utopic sentiments that it will become the rule rather than the exception. 

“I think film is the perfect accompaniment to my love for being active – for being out in nature, or surfing, skating – it’s being able to document that, but then also learn as I went into working on production sets and collaborating with commercial partners. It never gets old, being out and shooting and thinking you have a concept – and then being totally surprised when editing, and this initial narrative you tried to shape during filming can be totally transformed.” Josiah states, and on traveling he goes onto say, I first started traveling with just a camera, and saved up some cash – South East Asia in countries like Thailand, Vietnam and Sri Lanka – they are so nuanced, so rich in culture and such a juxtaposition between heavy urban settings and unbridled tropical landscapes. I think I had always favoured natural scenes – like it’s somehow good, and urban is bad – but that duality and contrast became less distinct after I traveled.”

There is an honesty in Josiah’s work; a sense that he is approaching the world with an earnest love for all that it is comprised of – and I think as we accelerate digitally, the conversations around content and media tend to be incredibly ominous; and it’s not that they shouldn’t be – there are some huge ethical implications involved in our warped-speed momentum into the digital age – but when speaking to a creative like Josiah, I am reminded of how most of our evolution as a species begins as a wonderment for our surroundings. On the power of media, Josiah relays; “I think being able to create narratives that can change someone’s perspective is exceptionally important. In 2018 I shot my first feature film which was Cut Out Girls by Nicole Hanekom. It’s a film about rape and rape-culture, and to be a part of something like this which is such an important subject for South Africa but also the entire world has made me go deeper into what film means. I think film and media have to look to create awareness around issues such as femicide.”

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Feminine Forces with Gina Jeanz

As I write this piece, Gina’s recently released LP, Lucid Theory, is playing in the background. I rarely listen to electronic music while I write, but there is a quality to how each track is woven that makes the sound of this album adaptable and joyful for any occasion – each song has a reference to both Gina and the influences around her, from the jazz-deep house synths and percussions of Amapiano, to the beautiful vocals intertwined with electro breakbeats. As both a DJ and music producer originally from Namibia, Gina Jeanz has been living and creating predominantly in South Africa for the last 11 years – and we are seriously blessed to have her sound and essence paving the way for women on the continent. With everyone I get to speak to and write about around creativity, I have a deep admiration; but there is something really special about knowing you are getting to talk to someone who might be established already, but for whom things are going to blow up in a massive way. This is the feeling I get with Gina – maybe it’s my witchy-senses when I speak to women who own their divine feminine magic – that there is a wellspring of ideas rooting to take shape in the world, and that the embodiment of one’s purpose is occurring, in real time.

“I grew up in an academic household – my late mum had a PHD, my dad too and my sister is a doctor – so I always felt like I needed that thing that was mine; that I was naturally good at. I think being creative in that environment motivated me to take up the violin, because it gave me a classical anchor around composing – and then refining my understanding through theory and pitch. That formative training has been invaluable, because going into production with some fundamentals to draw on encouraged a deeper dive in me.” Gina says in our conversation. The language of music is something I have very little understanding around; I find it almost like this magical power that people possess, but as with many things, there is having initial talent – and then there is refining that talent through discipline. Another anecdote that needs to be addressed is the idea of being an “instant or overnight” success – around regarding her career, Gina says, “My career took off in 2017, but I had been experimenting and developing my sound for a while before that. Electronic music, and the software one uses, is a whole system itself – and in order to create a seamless workflow, it requires a deep understanding of how to blend and mix. It’s definitely about experimentation and testing for every artist, and it was very much only a secondary hobby until 2017.”

So what happened in 2017 that course-shifted Gina’s trajectory? ‘’I grew up not having representation in spaces like music beyond vocalists, so it didn’t really dawn on me until 2017 that this was a viable career – a thriving career and purpose that I could have – I needed to know it was possible that one could buy a house or eat off doing this! Red-Bull put me up for Rocking The Daisies, which was my very first gig – at the Electro Dome. I have the line-up framed and there I am alongside all the big dogs like Flume and Black Coffee. What is this Namibian girl doing here??” Gina reminisces; and I think this is what I mean about my introductory comment, in which you can feel the alignment that is laid out for Gina on her path, and without downplaying it into a cliché trope, self-belief and trust is a big part of anchoring that energy. 

“I had to say yes, I had to keep imposter syndrome at bay. I quit my job as a graphic designer, and I knew I had to put time and effort into seeing if making music would work. In Namibia, there is a huge need for support and infrastructure around music and art. I don’t think it is seen as a priority; that creativity can change lives. I want to contribute to this change, as an African, but also as a woman. I feel like a big part of me doing this is not just to perform or to create, it’s to be a part of a conversation. Africa has been the blueprint! I want to show other African women that our seat at the table is not something we need to gain permission to have; it is already ours.’’ Gina says, and I am affirmed in my feeling that it is Africa’s time; and that every facet, industry and space needs to be forged with the array of incredible minds of this continent. In response to this, Gina says, “I think with what we have seen regarding the international success and interest in Gqom and Amapiano that eyes are on us. For my own musical practice, it’s important to remember how nuanced and diverse Africa is though – and that music is one of the threads that runs through the whole continent. I am excited about the role electronic music has in translating traditional sounds from indigenous instruments into a contemporary framework, for example. I feel as though I am a part of the growing community and femme sisterhood who are stepping into these roles.”

Another aspect of Gina’s artistry is the visually compelling expression that she relays to the world. To me, it is a testament of the feminine energy so long forgotten in the world, that when it arises – in both Gina’s images and sounds with effortless beauty – it feels quite startling, and elicits such reverence. My last question to Gina is what sounds are inspiring her at the moment, and who in Namibia should we be listening to?  “I’m really enjoying the new age sound of Afrohouse and Afrotech, and even more so exploring the genre more throughout my own production, artists who are also pushing this sound in Namibia. People should get to know are Lioness, DJ Castro, DJ Dreas and Waters.”

At the time of writing, Gina is releasing two new tracks on Bandcamp on Friday the 3rd of February. The tracks, Kae Beach and Paje Paje, are part of a project called Sounds of Zanzi; written in Zanzibar, as a sonic love-letter to her experience there. Imagine we all created gifts in our own mediums as an ode for the lands we encounter and love that we experience? Gina does so, and it is incredible.

We invite you to listen here;  https://ginajeanz.bandcamp.com/

Album Photography Credits ///

Photographer Aart Verrips
Production design and styling: Francois Ferreira
Makeup: Alexandra J Botha
Hair: Saadique Ryklief
Photo assist: Rebecca Smale
Sets built by: Mduduzi Mthethwa

Styling assistant: Kutlwano Hlomuka

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Jack Parow: Belville. Benoni. Blondies.

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 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

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

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

“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 ConnadeShelley 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

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:

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