Feminine Voices For House Music with Rishi Love

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Githan Coopoo, Translations of Mythology into Reality

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Das Kapital: Dynamism in Pursuit of the Vision

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

Your personal style is very much a part of who you are; particularly regarding sneakers and streetwear. It’s one thing to be a participant in fashion, but it’s another to venture into design and creative direction. How did this come about for you?

I have always been passionate about clothing – but in the last three or four years, I have really gotten deep into fashion. I was really fortunate to be able to work with Puma for many years which allowed me to take pressure off needing to be on top of what was happening within style. I mean there was a time when I would be like “why is anyone spending money on Yeezy’s”, and here I am doing exactly that and understanding the whole scope of sneakers and streetwear in both its sartorial and cultural impact. I was very sports-goth for a long time with long black coats and then when the contract ended with Puma, I suddenly was re-looking at my style – thinking maybe it’s time to move on from Tumblr style black T-shirts with inverted crosses and All-Seeing-Eyes – that whole edge-lord thing. 

Now, I can take ideas and styles I’ve always actually appreciated and turn them into something; I love using CAD to create pieces. I feel the same way as I feel about South African streetwear now in 2022, as I felt about the South African electronic scene in 2010 – there are so many bright, young talents around and established people who laid the foundations who are passionate enough and smart enough to recognize this moment. 

 

I feel like so much of the older generation was centered around finding one career and sticking to it for 30 years – it’s amazing to see how much we can actually do and create if we allow ourselves the space to. How do you weave all these elements of who you are into what you do?

Balance. I get a lot of joy out of being busy and doing many things, but I have learned to balance work and play – doing things because it’s simply joyful and engaging. I look back at times when I was possibly my unhealthiest as a person, and see that my entire life revolved around my music career – and I was ticking all these boxes, but relatively unfulfilled internally. It has taken maturity and growth to see that diversifying what I do, engaging with other interests, having meaningful relationships are all critical for being happy and doing what I love. Success means nothing even if it’s not contributing to your overall life experience meaningfully. 

 

What are you most proud of? 

Growing up and being a better person today than I was yesterday in so many ways. I think being able to acknowledge how I have handled certain things in the last decade is really important for me – being so career-driven for a long time, the last few years have been about having better interpersonal relationships, treating the people closest to me with the care they deserve and being available to them. I don’t believe I am owed anything, but I do believe I have fought tooth and nail to be the version of myself that I am. I am proudest of pushing past a lot of things that I thought were unmoving; like who I am, and what the world is like, and holding these very strict and restrictive views on both of those. I definitely feel more open, and knowing I have a long way to go in being the healthiest I can be – but I am incredibly proud of how far I’ve come.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Colour, Craft and Sisterhood with Via Wax

Candles hold a certain enchantment with their ability to cast light around their environment – perhaps the original sentiment of “warm lighting” that we have, apart from the sun itself, as the soft, natural hue of warm lighting encourages our circadian rhythm to taper down and relax. It is hard to pinpoint exactly when candle-making began – but historical accounts suggest the ancient Romans began dipping tallow and twine around 500 BC, along with whale-tallow candles recorded in Han China 200 BC. It is really a blip in historical time that we have relied on electricity to brighten our world; and yet for most of us, it is hard to imagine lifestyles centred around candles. Despite this, the sheer romanticism around lighting a candle is a ritual shared across the planet – there is rarely an evening in my own home where a few candles are not lit; a way for me to bid the day-past, and settle into the evening. 

In 2020, with heavy lock-downs and disconcerting uncertainty, Via Wax emerged from sister duo Nathalie and Laura Viruly – initially a past-time for endless days indoors, it is now a fully-functioning local business operating out of their studio in Salt River. Their candles, each one hand-poured, are offered in a variety of shapes – in which the function of a candle translates into an objet d’art. Laura is a Michaelis Fine Art School alumni and had spent a short time learning to work with wax – which led to her returning to it during lockdown, this time alongside Nathalie in their home in Woodstock. Nowadays, Laura pours the candles for Via Wax, while Nathalie’s curatorial and entrepreneurial skills manage the business – although these roles do interchange when required.

These are candles with a playful spirit – totally reminiscent of the colourful, ethereal pastel-drenched aesthetics of Copenhagen, while also blending beautifully into the Art-deco nostalgia that has occurred in Cape Town in the last decade mostly among artists and musicians. 

Our conversation at the Via.Wax studio is as earnest as the brand itself; a labour of local love.

Candle making is such an ancient practice; I have always seen it as somewhat magical and striking, our source of light for thousands of years before the advent of electricity. How did you both come to choose this craft? 

L: I had just finished my sculpting degree at Michaelis, and I had worked with wax a few times throughout that process – and I thought I knew a thing or two about it – turns out wax encompasses so much! We were trying to get into crafts to pass the time, and I had seen some Scandi design emphasis on candles online. I had some silicone leftover for moulds, and wax leftover – and our first two candles were made out of kid’s building blocks during lockdown.

N: Yeah, we even used wax crayons to make the colours at first – just for the prototypes – and I think we were both drawn to candles. Candles are such a representation of time and impermanence; they are made to disappear as part of their function which is really interesting in relation to art and design. It wasn’t very conceptual in the beginning, but making candles has turned out to hold a lot of meaning and depth for us. We grew up with candles on our Christmas tree, and come from a few generations of Italian women deeply embedded in craft. So it has definitely been a homage to our mother, our grandmother and then to each other – preserving what feels like a very feminine process of creation. 

L: We also like strange objects. You will find us at flea markets trying to find the weird pieces that most might gloss over with a little bit of disregard. We wanted to see if we could extend this fascination into candle-making, which can be a bit austere if you look at traditional making practices – and yet the process is intrinsically malleable, and playful to us. 

 

How have your sculptural and curatorial backgrounds contributed to Via Wax?

L: Our initial interest was in found objects. Certain shapes had become popular because they were available on Wish.com – user friendly moulds – a route we wanted to try and challenge. 

N: We took a lot of time researching what was out there already, and seeing if we could find ways to make candles that have our own signature on it. So from the kids’ building blocks, we ventured into looking at pieces of wood – with Laura even taking an angle-grinder to cut a segment out of something to draw out a shape. I think we owe a lot of that early development to Milnerton Market – where you almost have to learn to look at junk and see what it could be. There are also limitations to that, so now the newer shapes are 3D printed – a friend of ours works in that field and he helped us develop the “Pet” shape that came out last year. Our shapes are a collection of dreamed things and seen shapes.

L: Bric-a-brac style!

 

How does colour inform your process in both conceptualizing and pouring?

L: I have always been really liberal with colour – I mix every colour we use from primary colours. So we have a collection of swatches but I tend to promise people any colour they can imagine. 

N: Yeah – while I do tend to work a lot more on the admin & business side, Laura had gone to Durban and I ended up needing to mix and figured out how to do the ombré style that we now offer. So the colour gradients are always changing, and we wanted to offer Via Wax as a place for people to find their dream candle in their dream colour – which is not that easy on our side, but a huge part of what I think keeps us both really excited to continue. Our candles burn quite differently to other kinds, and a large part of that is the varying pigments; so it can be quite dramatic.

L: I definitely didn’t envision making the same thing after I graduated- working a bit mechanically or in a uniformed way – so the colour is where I really get to access my creativity. I think it’s also worth noting that the process has a lot of nuances to it, and so getting every candle to be the same can be tricky. 

As co-creators, business partners and real-life sisters; how do you navigate such a close collaboration?

L: We are really lucky in that we both seem to have gravitated towards our area of interest, and those happen to balance each other out in relation to making Via Wax work. I have needed Nathalie’s curatorship skill to perhaps guide, or even manage, my process a bit and figure out what is possible to do. 

N: We read each other really easily too, and it has been a huge help to have each other to get through days that are harder than others. Although we have brought something special out of the last two years, it has been challenging, uncertain and hard on everyone we know, including us – so I think to do this with the person who knows me the best, and vice versa, has helped us push on. 

L: Communication is really important, too. In any relationship. At first we were doing this in our kitchen, then our parents’ garage – so with the studio, we have been able to establish more boundaries at home. 

N: We are also very close and share a lot of the same friends – so that community is a huge part of Via Wax, we couldn’t have done it without them and so I think to have our strong bond as being supported by those around us has been instrumental. 

 

What dream-scapes and vision do you both have in store for Via Wax, 2022? 

L: I think collaboration is key for us this year. We have a lot of ideas we want to map out with other creators – I think coming from a traditional art school background, there is this expectation that if you are not practicing as a fine artist, and doing craft instead, you’re not forging a path in art at all. We need to shift this notion – because to us, craft is often a more accessible form of art – and just as creative and brilliant. 

N: We really want to bring our more objects and even sculptures – and maybe more limited editions runs, and colours & adding scent too. We are working on those things, and have some more ideas but I think any small business owner/s will know that bringing it all to fruition when we want to is often not the case; so I think just doing what we can is enough for us right now, and the rest will unfold.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Mentorship that Nurtures & Sustains with Lukhanyo Mdingi

Since the inception of his eponymous label in 2015, Lukhanyo Mdingi has charted a course that exists as a testimony for the spirit of design – in which design can be understood and practiced to bring forth community and collaboration. This is evident in the label’s continued dedication to nurturing relationships – such as its relationship with the Ethical Fashion Initiative, and as the most recent recipient of the LVMH Karl Lagerfeld Prize in 2021.

Knowing Lukhanyo is to know someone who believes irrevocably in human beings; he is the champion and support of so many creatives in South Africa – and this earnest encouragement with which he navigates his career and relationship I see as true integrity, a quality that is irreplaceable in the world of fashion. At the end of 2021, Lukhanyo joined three other incredible mentors – Buki Akomolafe, Nadine Gonzalez and Olga Pham – to spend three months working with five emerging designers for the True Fashion: Try on Green programme. I truly believe spaces such as these are so needed; the images alone from the final shoot showcases a variety of exceptional and distinctive talent and curiosity among Xola Makoba, Burton Miles, Khumo Morejele, Zovuyo Mputa and Nkosazana Hlalethwa – the five emerging designers in the programme.

I was eager to know more from Lukhanyo as a leader in South African fashion around mentorship, sustainability and the necessity of education.

In an industry that is largely perceived as gate-kept, how important is it to have spaces such as the True Green fashion initiative to nurture the up-coming generation of designers?

It’s incredibly important. The reality is that time is the only constant – especially in this industry that is cyclical by nature – change is always inevitable. To nurture the foundations of future designers is to also nurture their entrepreneurial capabilities, and in turn create communities. I have seen how mentorship brings a larger audience to emerging designers and this is incredibly valuable for any longevity within the vision of their labels or brands. Providing space and opportunity through the spirit of mentoring one is able to guide this incredible talent – and in my case, I am able to impart the lessons and teachings that I have experienced being within the fashion industry. 

How did the mentorship program inform your label, Lukhanyo Mdingi, throughout the years?

Mentorship as a whole has been a revealing experience. I was going into the space without a pre-conception of hierarchy, and that was really the intention I brought with me; to be among these aspiring designers as equals and peers with the shared love for design. The premise of my own label is essentially human beings – that is the central focus of how our label exists, and so this experience was a reflection of how crucial it is to hand-over knowledge and encourage learning.  Being in their presence really ignited something within me, and it was such a pleasure to share my experiences as an entrepreneur, designer and as a collaborator. I have worn so many hats over the years, and to take the time to sit down and pay attention to these amazing human beings – I was able to listen to their narratives, and pose the right questions that could hopefully yield them in the right direction for what they envision. I believe that opening ourselves up to the wisdom of others can only deepen the relationship we have to enliven our own stories as designers. 

Are you seeing an increased interest + adaptation in the realm of sustainability within the younger generation?

Yes, even just from this experience – all of the mentees were incredibly eager to understand sustainability a lot more, and to see it in a way that was more relevant to their authenticity – how does sustainability look for them within their context, rather than someone else’s journey. This was a beautiful aspect of this program; witnessing young designers begin to work on the marriage between their skills & interests and how those can be woven into a model that is conscious of human beings, fabrication and the environment. 

Do you think fashion schools around South Africa will be incorporating ethically-centric modules in their course structure?

Absolutely. I think it is inevitable and not just for fashion, but for many industries. The world is moving forward, and to live in a modern world – we need to adapt to the issues that we face. I really see it being incredibly necessary for ethics, sustainability and transparency to continue in the way of conversation as we have seen in the last few years, and that this will be filtered down within educational spaces. 

What do you hope to see more of from designers in South Africa in the next decade?

Far more emphasis on entreupenurship – I don’t see this having been addressed enough, that it is an essential part of building a long-term label or vision that is set-up for expansion and overall health as a business that is both creatively and economically viable. An incredibly important part of that for us has been seeing how LM functions to create opportunities for other individuals. This purpose and service needs to be celebrated, and forges leadership – I really see the way I have grown in the business-aspect of Lukhanyo Mdingi, and it has motivated me to reach for more and to see what we do with this beautiful vessel, hopefully can ignite change and creating community along the way. 

CREDITS:

Creative Director: Lukhanyo Mdingi

Photographer:  Luke Houba

Makeup Artist: Inga Hewett

Models: Sarah and Alanzo (Twenty Model Management)

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Y2K Revival: The Moments That Maketh

I have found it fascinating to watch the last two years of a 00s revival underway – particularly on social media, and led by Gen-Zs – and for many millennials there is a nostalgic, almost anachronistic relationship with that decade, and yet those coming of age now are experiencing y2k trends as a novel-vintage hybrid. I was born in ‘95; the very last year of the millennials, and so to be a cusp-baby is a strange mix of relating across a spectrum of two generations; and while I was only a teenager in the very last years of the 2000s, the cultural and ideological impact formed a huge part of my individuation in the 2010s; for better, and definitely for worse. This y2k revival is a very particular flavour of that time, because that decade was also the birth of emo – colourful skinny jeans from JayJays paired with fedoras, and not to mention Mary-Kate and Ashley’s launch of The Row in 2006, which was then very boho-chic – and now, just incredibly chic. 

This article was inspired by a very hilarious deep-dive into the vortex of useless celebrity trivia the day after Kourtney Kardashian and Travis Barker got engaged. If you know that vortex- you’ll know that reading about Kravis, leads to reading about Shanna Moakler, which ties into beauty pageantry culture – and to end up in a rabbit hole like that is, well, disturbing to say the least. I like to think I have moved on from my obsessive Heat Magazine days, or pouring over the back pages of my mom’s YOU magazine’s to see the latest gossip and red carpet looks – that I am now far more cultured, intellectual and aware to buy into the monolithic machine of the cult of celebrity – and yet I couldn’t help be totally fascinated with this whole “Kravis” debacle. On one hand, we have the lithe, tattooed noughties-punk icon of Blink 182 – a band that pretty much ruled rock music in the early 2000s – and one of reality TVs’ most successful women – whose family ended up creating an entire culture of BBL infused influencers, an emblem of cultural appropriation & capitalism that has us in a chokehold to this day. And yet, what seems like this supremely intriguing clashing of two worlds – rockstar versus. Glam-girl – is in fact, a tale as old as time; two iterations of the same face, the slightly more wholesome version of Pam & Tommy – and this is really the theme of the 2000s, it is attention grabbing, crisis-saturated information that is inconsequential, frankly vapid, and yet still is a momentous cultural decade in which culottes, velour tracksuits and blackberries were at the top of every teenager girl’s agenda. But I digress. 

This conversation has to begin in 1999; the year the Matrix was released, as well as music streaming service Napster (Limewire, anyone?)  –  South Africa is in its fifth year of democracy, and I am four years old – needless to say, my memories from that year include little more than my brother’s recent birth and Disney VHS tapes. The last year of an entire century unfolds as Google launches their search engine, and the world wide web is less of a fever-dream and starting looking more like the information medium set to chart humanity’s course into the future. There was mass hysteria around the “Y2K bug” – prophecies of impending doom, in which it was thought that computers would not be able to update its calendar into the millennium – and these computers had pretty much become the central figure around which we had decided to organize society. MTV had been around since 1981, and was very much a key-piece in marketing American culture, music and celebrities to the rest of the world. Total Request Live, TRL, would be the program that defined the 2000s for any artist set for stardom – pop princesses, boy-bands, rockstars and even Disney stars were considered legitimate to the public if they were featured on a TRL count-down, or better yet live with Carson Daly. 

The early 2000s is where we begin to see RnB, hip-hop and pop music truly intersect – Kelly Rowland and Nelly release Dilemma in 2002, and Pharrell launches Billionaires Boys Club with sub-labels such as ICECREAM & Bape – which I feel is a precursor to Ye’s venture in fashion. Pharell walked so Ye could run. Britney is re-defining pop-stardom and marries her backup dancer, K-Fed, and Beyoncé goes solo with “Crazy in Love’’ – releasing her first album with that iconic diamond top paired with menswear D&G jeans. The Osbourne family started their reality TV show, followed by Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson in Newlyweds – and all my friend’s older brothers thought Jackass was the height of masculine rebellion. There are so many threads to draw on – too many for one piece – but to look at these moments is to also acknowledge a culture then that was wrapped in celebrities, and still largely today, and that this “culture” is founded on the standard of skinny, blonde white women; so much so that when Heidi Montag was asked about the lack of diversity in the show The Hills – this was her genuine, earnest response;

“We don’t all look the same. I mean, Audrina has darker hair, I feel like Mischa has darker hair. We’re just California girls and we’re a group of friends, and that just happens to be the group that came together.”

I really believe the y2k era will make for compelling thesis subjects in years to come – if not already – as it’s not just a cute Von Dutch trucker hats were paired with a halter top and baguette bag – it never is – it is our very human interpretation of the mass-media complex; the culture that arises when old men in boardrooms use aspiring artists as economic pawns – and the culture that without a doubt, led to the 2010s Tumblr era of thigh-gap hysteria, and a continual, collective avoidance of addressing systemic oppression and rapid technocratic globalization. 

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Bob Ele Releases Newest Single ‘Elizabeth’

Singer/songwriter/producer Bob Ele has a distinctively warm, light rasp to his voice, and has been described as “a multi-instrumentalist blending indie-electronic with a bedroom pop sound production”.

Campbell Robert College, known by his stage name as Bob Ele was raised in Durban, South Africa, where his love for music was born. After developing his song writing skills and growing into his unique sound, Bob started to pursue his passion as a career.

Bob describes his musical style as having been influenced and inspired the most by his relationship with God, friends, and family. Alongside his love for music, is his ability to make everyone around him laugh with his quirky nature and theatrical persona. Bob says “ Music inspires me, it drives me, it makes me who I am and I hope it helps you do the same. A sound that everyone can relate to and be moved by”.

‘Elizabeth’, ‘Bob Ele’s newest single, is basically all about Bobs’ hopes and fears moving to a new city without his lover, Elizabeth. The two are deeply in love and are willing to fight for the bond to continue at a distance, but Bob doesn’t want to fall away from her love. She makes life better and helps him feel a sense of worth.

The melody moves one to a place of nostalgia and gentle melona. Momentamori, shooter and director of the music video, captures the essence of what Bob is feeling in a real and personal way. Bob was incredibly sick on the shoot and even vomited once or twice, but the director felt Bob’s exhaustion on the day added to the character’s reality appropriately.

The song ends with the repeated words “I don’t wanna fall” and the imagery slowed down into a beautiful shot of the two kissing on signal hill; Sounds cheesy but the misty evening makes it feel as though the scene was shot in Switzerland somewhere.

Stream and Watch ‘Elizabeth’ here:

YouTube

Spotify

Apple Music

Phrazes, South African Photographer/ Musician, Robin Molteno – Brings Us His First Release

Phrazes – South African photographer / musician, Robin Molteno – brings us his first music release. 

Growing up in Cape Town and now living in Berlin,  Phrazes is doing his best to manifest a life focused on pursuing his artistic practice. Having spent his life immersed in sound as his lens through this reality, it was high time he released some of his own orchestration.

Midway through the year, Phrazes found himself trapped between the covid-regulated borders of Cape Town and Berlin, stranded in Utrecht (a mini-Amsterdam town in the Netherlands) with a green tent and music gear. When faced with deciding between a cramped kitchen-lounge floor or absurdly expensive Airbnb – a large inflatable mattress and a power line was procured, and a studio tent space was built on the roof of an apartment building. Wrapping it in a 20m long string of fairy-lights brought from Cape Town, and carefully mapping out his recording gear, Phrazes spent almost a month living in his own private canopy, next to those of trees, accessible via a ladder bolted to the outer wall of the building.

You can hear this ladder being climbed at the start of the track ‘Tent, Alone’.

There were strings of days of almost total solitude which kept him working in the tent, along with the light Dutch rain, which is very audible on the improvised track (Tent, Alone), recorded with his long-suffering iPhone 8 mic.

Robin grew up with a classical-music fanatic mother whose 6 CD changer would be turned on at 7am, and switched off at midnight or 1am.

This musical education met itself at the crossroads of early high school interest in early music psychedelia and eastern philosophy, and in turn Indian classical. Drone notes and pivot-tones are used subtly throughout the pop of DEMOTAPE 1.

There is also a taste of the odd signatures that will come in later releases: measures of ‘Tent, Alone’ roll between 7/8 and 4/4. A childhood dream had been to find and learn Indian instruments (bansuri and sitar), of which just the bansuri makes a feature on this release. A Korg minilogue (small analog synth) takes over the second section. Kashaka (West African shakers) open the track ‘Kerosene’, and in this panned percussion intro, you can hear the sound of streets below squeezing past the heavy ‘gating’ of the sound. 

A dreamy, bird-space period: DEMOTAPE 1.

Listen to Phrazes’ DEMOTAPE 1 here on:

Apple Music

Soundcloud

Spotify

Mantua Silkwear: Producing Slow Wear For a Fast World in an African Context

Mindful of the centuries-old traditions of ancient China’s Mulberry Culture, Mantua Silkwear produces slow wear for a fast world in an African context. One considered piece at a time.

Mantua Silkwear is inspired by the ethereal luminosity of silk and how it transforms to the body. As a counterpoint to disposable fashion, the Mantua Collection of silk scarves and is trans-seasonal and beyond trends. Watercolour artworks are printed onto silk scarves in limited editions. The design process is driven by an intrinsic awareness of colour, space and shape, and of the body as a canvas for wearable art. The scarves are cut and hemmed at a small home studio nestled in the heart of the winelands, Stellenbosch, using only the finest Chinese silk.

‘In Dreams’ is a collection of printed silk scarves, robes, dresses and accessories. Mantua Silkwear creates ceremonial day and nightwear to celebrate and honour daily rituals, the Mantua wardrobe becomes a treasured accessory to living in these moments.

This season’s collection is inspired by the dreamers and artisans, the believers and the hopeful hearted! A tapestry born of psychedelic dreams and subconscious awareness, flow into a myriad of colour patterns coming alive in each individually crafted silk garment and scarf. Unique patterns are serendipitous, soft, and soothingly dulcet. Subtle pastel palettes marry prints together with violet and lilac accentuations. Washes of green, pink and yellow are dynamic variations to this ensemble. Fruit, flowers, leaves and berries live symbolically across fabrics inspiring an escape to a world of hope and natural abundance.

From voluminous robes and kaftans that drape and fall, to the elegantly figure-hugging cut-on-slant slips, Mantua’s silk garments compliment and accentuate the female body in its many desirable forms. Resplendent scarves and sui generis kimonos complete the Mantua Silkwear collective with a luxurious nod to ceremonial “dream-wear”.

Shop the collection www.mantua.co.za

“Virgil Was Here”

“Virgil was here.”

Virgil Abloh (September 30, 1980 – November 28, 2021)

 

I am not sure I have mourned the passing of a cultural figurehead in quite the same way as I have this past week, since the news broke of Virgil Abloh’s transition from this earth on Sunday evening. I was only 15 when Lee McQueen died, and although I was enamoured by his macabre and guttural contribution to fashion – I think I was too young to comprehend the heaviness left behind when creators of such a magnitude leave us; in a moment’s breathe, suddenly and abruptly the seat of their essence moves with them, leaving only a trail of their work behind in their wake. The endless tributes on social media from intersecting spaces of fashion, design, music, architecture and media reflect the multi-dimensional nature of Virgil’s presence, as he made his mark across all manner of fascination with material and structure-function and form – with his ceaseless inquiring (and answering) the many ways we can experience the full range of our own design signature as human beings. 

This idea of “what is your signature” is the opening slide for Virgil’s infamous lecture at the Harvard School of Design – in which he relays a distilled version of his roadmap and shortcuts to students. It is with this spirit of sharing that Virgil has come to be known for – as someone who has opened doors and broken boundaries in ways that we may only truly comprehend in years to come. In an industry built on the back of white supremacy and capitalism, fashion is no stranger to exploitation, cultural appropriation and violence – and it tends to require a good dose of cognitive dissonance to remain consistently in awe of the feats of design held in place by such a distorted systemic structure. I think Virgil came into a decade in which fashion was at a major cross-roads, particularly in 2011 – 2013 in which he established Off-White – and it had become apparent that fashion as the gatekept, insular monolith would no longer hold off in a society that desperately required de-constructing – and if you ask me, demolishing. As the first Black artistic director of Louis Vuitton menswear, Virgil re-invigorated the rigid stiffness of French luxury, and he serves as an icon in translating streetwear into its rightful place as one of the most important aesthetic and cultural movements of the 20th and 21st century. It was never about requiring the validation of luxury in order for streetwear to be recognized, but in merging the two – creators like Virgil have sought to widen the foundation from which design can be imagined – beyond class and into capturing the true anima of the human, visual experience. Fashion is a reflection of what needs to be shown, what is occurring and being discussed, so it can be translated from the inner worlds of us all. It knows no bounds; and when under the watchful eye of someone like Virgil Abloh, it has the power to draw connection between people and craft through the pursuit of beauty. 

On Wednesday 1 December, at 00h30 (SA time) – a livestream of Virgil’s final show for Louis Vuitton opened with a short film. A young kid rides his bicycle through Miami (exact locations, I am not sure) – stopping at certain points to observe the contrast of the sun with the structures around him. Virgil often spoke of his younger self as being the motivation for his path forward; that his sensory wonder as a child and a teenager never waned, and was only amplified the more he was able to move between his studies as an architect, to his foray into streetwear in Chicago, his work with Yeezy, Off-White and Louis Vuitton – with many, many collaborations and orchestrations in between across many disciplines. The presence of the crimson red hot air balloon in both the opening film, and as a feature in the show, captures the floating, flying – soaring manner in which he moved through his life; communicating to his audience, community and loved ones that this was true for them all to do, too. 

A voice recording opens the show with Virgil’s recorded voice saying “I have been on this focus, in terms of my art and creativity, in which I have been getting adults to behave like children again. To get them back to this sense of wonderment –where they stop using their minds and they start using their imagination.” 

Leaving many signatures throughout the show, Virgil’s final offering to us is a distillation of the sheer joy he found in the appreciation and application of colour theory – with many appearances of cobalt blue, acid green, solar yellow, crimson red, oatmeal, bubble-gum pink – aqua, silver, and black. I have always been struck by how Virgil and his team sought to take the LV monogram and elevate it in ways that make it feel tangible and exciting rather than exclusionary. “Virgil was here” is no different in this sense, with lockbox bags with ombré spills are tempered against broad shouldered tailored pieces – sometimes in tie-dye, other times in print or leather. Pleated and hooped skirts layered over draped trousers appear as the models (among them, Kid Cudi) weave delicately through the trees, a nod to the ever-evolving notions of masculine dressing in 2021 and beyond. 

This is Virgil’s memory in a collection; the drive to bring fashion out of an archaic time-frame, and into a context that is relevant and present. It is a homage to the sheer amount that he has created in such a short space of time; with always maintaining the great affection he has for the sheer experience of being alive. 

Virgil was here.

– Courtesy of Louis Vuitton.

Written by Holly Bell Beaton