Shaquille-Aaron Keith is a polymath in the true sense of the word. It is one thing to be creative and to have a handle on one’s chosen medium; it’s another thing entirely to utilise multiple mediums of expression, and for these threads to weave indistinguishably into a unified expression – for Shaquille, this expression is as honest and heartfelt as he is. To be an artist in the 21st century is to navigate all manner of digital and physical realities; and to be an artist today, is to squarely face constraints in the face, and walk straight past them and effortlessly into the proverbial sunset. You may know Shaquille from the cult-status Youtube channel PAQ; a space where streetwear reverberated across the screens of nearly a million subscribers, and one of the first of its kind to showcase our generation as defining fashion content production, discussion and dissemination. Its archive, with the show being on a tentative hiatus, is a goldmine; and its four presenters have splintered off to make their solo mark on the world. Shaquille’s current work is a rich intersection between fashion and art; as a painter, poet, animator, model and cultural archivist; and his most recent stop along the way was right in Cape Town, for Investec Cape Town Art Fair 2023, exhibiting for Eclectica Contemporary.

Image Courtesy of Eclectica Contemporary.

“I used to watch a lot of anime with my older siblings, I’m the youngest of four. My two older brothers introduced me to Dragon-Ball Z, and I used to try and draw Goku when he went Super Saiyan; obviously they were really bad, but I liked how my interpretation was coming out, and seeing how I could distil a moment in animation that contains many frames, into one picture. I think those years of my childhood drawing with friends, surrounded by tons of pencils, are some of the most important moments to me until this day.” Shaquille reminisces, and the nuance of TV as hand-drawn, digitised worlds are something almost inarticulable to those of us raised on cartoons and anime. I still count Beerus, Dragon-Ball Z’s God of Destruction, as one of my patron saints. For Shaquille, his creativity hasn’t stopped flowing since those formative years – whether it was the first art-kit given to him by his mum, or his introduction to the mindful, soothing nature of brush strokes and paint. Drawing, though, was a mainstay throughout school, “I used to draw in every class, except for art class – because I knew I could learn something in art class. I used to get detention all the time, and letters sent home, saying ‘Shaquille is drawing pictures in class that he thinks is good’ and what bothered me about each letter is that they made a point to say that ‘he thinks’ it’s good. Man, those were my first critics, and it was my first challenge.” Growing up in South London, Shaquille’s version of grade 10 meant that students are able to specialise through ‘GCSEs’ – an education framework which for British kids, is a version of matriculation that we know here in South Africa. When his teachers advised his mum that he should follow the GCSE art pathway, all those years of drawing came to be recognised – finally, “when I went to college, I wanted to try something different – I’d been drawing for 12 years, and I wanted to see how that would translate digitally. So media studies was a beautiful, broad overview that taught me to develop varying skills, with animation being the stand-out medium that I found. I remember learning to do a GIF, and it blew my mind; if I didn’t loop the frames at the end, I had a consistent animation. That opened up a whole new realm for me.” Phantasia(i) in Motu depicts Shaquille’s animation style – hand drawn illustration, evoking flow that binds together the movement of a body dancing, and it’s from this place that his style had begun to develop. A style that is underpinned by pop cultural references, and deepening as it moves into Shaquille’s symbology-heavy works depicting Blackness, British-ness, culture, love, pain and memory. A stand-out work from 2022 is titled ‘Gentrification (Communal Genocide)’. The painting hides within it varying, surrealist style depictions of a changing neighbourhood of his youth, Lewisham in South-east London. When I describe Shaquille as a cultural archivist, this is precisely what I mean – in his observation and contemplation of his surroundings, everywhere in the world, he uses his calling and purpose as an artist to comment and cultivate dialogue. Shaquille did this with PAQ, and he does so with his artistic practice.

GENTRIFICATION (COMMUNAL GENOCIDE). 2022.

Shaquille’s primary form of written dialogue is poetry. Initially, this was the art-form that he was approached for by VSCO for a campaign, but around this time, three years ago, Shaquille began to share the multiplicity of his skills.“Poetry and painting are one in the same to me, and because I don’t separate them, I find that they add weight to each other. I really like being able to have each of them inform the other. When it comes to poetry, it is more directly in my paintings than just as accompanying text. My favourite artist of all time, Nas, is a poet and every time he tells a story, it’s incredibly detailed. I reference his art-form of rap in the way that I work. The background is the beat, and towards the foreground is the first verse – second verse is how the background and foreground interact with each other, and then the hook is the little details that the viewer might have to look at twice, and maybe that showcases a kind of technical ability. When it comes the work ‘Gentrification’ for example, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how there’s no lines I won’t cross, really, in the name of art and to tell a message.’’ 

As a self-professed romantic, Shaquille owes his poetry to wanting to woo girls at 16 years old; and the kind of poignant, heart centred tone remains in his work today, gripping the reader. This caught the attention of Gucci Beauty, too – when Shaquille was invited to create a series of original poetry for a series of lipsticks, “with Beauty Papers Magazine, I got to work with Gucci, which was so surreal. I got to see how my work can exist in a commercial space, and Gucci in particular is amazing in allowing their creators and collaborators to have free-reign. I really felt I could be as abstract as I could be, and they showcased my poems in my handwriting. It felt very earnest.”

 I can’t hear you, It’s Picture day. 2023. Mixed media on board, 120 x 150 cm.

It’s Shaquille’s first time in Africa, so being here has been deep, “I think when I knew I hit heaven, was when I was on Chapman’s Peak, wedged between this great ocean and the mountain. I think the artwork out here is so vibrant, and I feel like the colours of Cape Town in general are just on another level. I didn’t see Cape Town as being a part of my plans for 2023, but when I met Marli and Shamiela in Paris at AKAA, it led to them being invited to the Investec Art Fair. I’ve met so many incredible artists and people – and I’ve even extended my stay. I was supposed to fly home, today; and honestly? I want to rent a place and come and be here for a few months. I can see myself creating here, and travelling through the country.” Shaquille speaks of his experience here in the way that he speaks of his career; with excitement, and the energy of purpose. Art, in all its forms beckoned Shaquille as a young kid, pencils in hand, and now; the vision continues to be revealed, wherever in the world this purpose might take him.

Images by Robin Jones and Nicholas Farmer, with gratitude to Eclectica Contemporary.

Written by: Holly Beaton

Porky Hefer’s work exists as a bridge between the natural world and us humans – our need for design, and incisive penchant for biomimicry. There is perhaps no more a truthful or practical, or regal and hilarious, reference than that offered to us by nature; even in our bricked homes and concrete city-scapes; we are always seeking out the seedling that’s erupting through the pavement cracks. Porky has built his entire reality around this; himself, an antenna for receiving codes and caveats from the natural world. I’m not sure if it’s intentional or that for Porky, it’s the only authentic way to create the way he does; that is, to reflect natural phenomena in startling designs such as his ever-evolving Weaver’s Nest chairs and pods, and to do so through mostly hand-made methods and using indigenous materials. It is this simplistic honesty in Porky’s work – to reference and mimic nature and to do so compassionately towards nature – that sets the designer apart in a very serious, contemporary design landscape. I feel, when looking at his work, the inner-child leaps out of me; that little kid who still dreams of living in a tree-house. This evocative ability, among Porky’s technical and creative brilliance, marks a genius. 

On the back of a very busy art week, and his fourth solo exhibition at Southern Guild Gallery, we asked Porky a few questions.

Your shift from being an acclaimed creative director to a designer is incredible – in reflection, how did your former career initiate the artist that you are today?

Advertising is/was an incredible industry. It’s very tough; crazy deadlines, late hours and very, very, competitive. I definitely met the most creative and talented people I have ever encountered. People like John Hunt and many others taught me everything and how to implement it, and it really affected the way that I think and approach problems. Mainly, it taught me how to think quickly and to vary my thinking process over and over, rather than approaching problems in the same way every time. I learnt how to create concepts with a past and a future, and that had a life, rather than just a moment or an object. I learnt about being strategic and understanding a market or demographic. I learnt how to sell. I learnt about craft and making things the best they can possibly be, rather than just simply making it. I learnt about being prepared and having your shit together. I learnt how to drink tequila until 4am and be at work at 6am. I learnt about working together with the best. I learnt about cooperation. I learnt to say no. I learnt how to delegate. I learnt how to disrupt. I learnt about competition and how to be competitive. I learnt to be not just good, but great.

Nature is your most critical reference – how do you consider the natural world throughout your process?

I stare at the small things that most people would walk past. I find nature fascinating and incredible – it constantly blows my mind. The small things’ habits, their societies, their beauty, their intelligence, their resilience, their strength, their love, their innocence. It is endless. Their inspiration is never-ending. In truth, I love animals more than humans.

The playful, tongue-in-cheek energy in your work sets you apart from the often-austere contemporary design language of today. Can you talk about having a sense of humour in your work?

I find humour the most important aspect of my work. I try to design my pieces so they will elicit a smile, a laugh, or a wow from the viewer or user. I always attempt to shift the state of mind or body into a happier state. Quite often, my pieces make people feel like a child again, and that’s a powerful thing. In fact, very often, children are my biggest fans: they love my work. More often than not, my work has a message I am trying to convey – I find it easier to win someone over if you start off on a positive note rather than trying to shock someone into opening up their mind.

Porky Hefer, Chaos Calamus, 2023. Cr. Hayden Phipps, S Guild.

Your latest solo exhibition, Volume 4. Chaos Calamus – Interspecies Reciprocal Altruism, is a study on the magnificence and essentiality of the microbial world. Could you offer any thoughts on how the microscopic revealed itself to you, leading to this body of work?

I once read that early sci-fi writers, because of the fact that they had zero information about the universe, planets, or even the moon, had to rely on their own imaginations for source material for inventing their new worlds. Some would study nature, such as insect colonies and behaviour for their inspiration, and some went a bit deeper into the microscopic communities – and that’s what I decided to do: to delve into these microscopic worlds to see what I could find.

The first image of an amoeba was produced by August Johann Rösel von Rosenhof in 1755, who named his discovery “the little Proteus”, after Proteus, the shape-shifting sea-god of Greek mythology. The amoeba is the ultimate shape-shifter and can change its form at will simply by changing the state of its outer-walls and the fluids in its body. It extends in a desired direction by creating extensions called pseudopods, or false feet. These finger-like shapes balloon outwards, pulling the rear of its cell forward. They are adapting their shape constantly, evolving according to the immediate context or environment they find themselves in. This absolutely blew my mind. it’s the ultimate sci-fi creature.

The show starts with a round simplistic form which is typical of my first nests. But as we see the other pieces in the show, they start growing pseudopods and oozing off in different directions for different reasons. I wanted to evolve my shapes and forms, and oozing them out seemed the natural way to go. Cyclosis and Sol-Gel are first stages of the shape shift and these extensions provide space for you to slip your feet into. 

In Pseudopodium, the extension has oozed down onto the floor, creating a seating area to accommodate another occupant. Binary Fission is the point when a cell divides into two – this piece is the moment just before splitting, creating two ends where people can sit facing each other, feet touching.

Porky Hefer, Portait, 2022. Cr. Hayden Phipps, SGuild.

Volume 4. Chaos Calamus – Interspecies Reciprocal Altruism is on at Southern Guild until 1 April 2023.

Image credit: courtesy of Hayden Phipps/Southern Guild

Written by: Holly Beaton

The colours embellishing Wycliffe Mundopa’s works are kaleidoscopic; as if he were showing us, the viewers, the prism of technicolour that triumphs over his thematic concerns. Such concerns, for a Zimbabwean artist, are steeped in the post-colonial realities of his land; Wycliffe is an archivist of the heart that continues to beat between the changing hands of imperialism and the country’s current political proceedings. This heart, the women of Zimbabwe, are presented in Wycliffe’s work as literal – the women themselves – and metaphorical. For Wycliffe, the country itself is a woman; a feminine being wronged and disrespected, subjugated and still – the embodiment of compassion, resilience, foresight. In our Q+A with Wycliffe below, he makes the painstaking admission of why his work feels so illuminating, “I want to celebrate the beauty of real Zimbabwean women the way they are: passionate, bright, full of fire and energy and uncompromising in the face of difficulty, but also full of laughter and celebration. They don’t live with rose-coloured glasses on and that is what I want to paint.” It is in this wildly authentic and grounded ability to present almost-surrealist colourscapes as wholly realistic and reflective of truth that showcases Wycliffe as a contemporary master. As the 2021 FNB Art Joburg Prize winner, Wycliffe’s solo exhibition titled Zva Nyadza, (Shona for “to bear witness”) was so aptly named; he has received the mantle of responsibility relegated to artists very seriously, with honour, to continue telling the stories that must be told.

Wycliffe Mundopa’s latest exhibition is currently showcasing in a double solo alongside Porky Hefer at Southern Guild Gallery. Pachiwampwe is a continued effort for Wycliffe to ‘be at one with the people of my life’. We are grateful for the opportunity to chat briefly to Wycliffe as he continues to move.

Your artistic process has been informed by the socio-political upheaval of Zimbabwe; why is canonising women in Harare through your work so critical as a means of resistance? 

I see my role as an artist as a compassionate witness and champion of the lives of ordinary people. Women in my practice are not literal but allegorical. The scenes of life in my paintings are infused with metaphor, and the figures of people and animals are as much symbolic as they are representative. In many ways for me to say woman is to say Zimbabwe of the common people. I am particularly interested in pushing back against moral pressures and judgement that women face, even though they are overwhelmingly the backbone of our society and also frequently the breadwinners. Patriarchal society, dominated by colonially imposed Christian moral codes expects women to be pure, perfect, quiet and demure, and hypocritically judges them when they are forced into morally dubious occupations to fulfil their duties as mothers, wives and providers. I want to celebrate the beauty of real Zimbabwean women the way they are: passionate, bright, full of fire and energy and uncompromising in the face of difficulty, but also full of laughter and celebration. They don’t live with rose-coloured glasses on and that is what I want to paint.

The richness of your paintings – the colour, form and emotion – where does that arise from within you during your process?

The colours I use are the colours I see, no more and no less. Harare is called the ‘Sunshine City’ and the nature of its dwellers is as vibrant as its colours. The brightness is both a celebration and a defiance to hardship. The way we face challenges is not in darkness – we don’t forget the beauty of life even in the most difficult of times.

Wycliffe Mundopa, Afternoon Delight Part 1. 2022. Cr. First Floor Gallery.

What should our readers know about the artistic landscape in Zimbabwe, in 2023?

Zimbabwe has a long history of contemporary art practice. In terms of painting, we have had masters like Kingsley Sambo and Marshall Baron, recognised internationally as early as the 1950s, and who are present in museums like MOMA. While very small and facing challenges in terms of access to resources, the Zimbabwean contemporary artist community is really dynamic and resourceful, and punches well above its weight compared to other art scenes in Africa. We’ve all had to invent ourselves and our practices, and most of us are committed to staying in Zimbabwe despite the challenges of life.

Pachipamwe (We Meet Again) is a deeply poignant reflection of contemporary life in Harare; what were the precious things for you to communicate in this body of work? 

I see being an artist as a job and a vocation. For me, working in the studio is not about inspiration, but it’s actually intrinsic to how I live my life, so work happens all the time, with ideas evolving slowly over time as well. Continuity of practice is also crucial for me to never stop developing my practice technically. In this body of work, I am developing some new approaches to painting as well as also revisiting some ideas and visual vocabulary I have been working with over the past fifteen years. Being at one with the life of my people through art is my life’s work and ambition. Every exhibition is a segment of that journey and Pachipamwe is no exception.

Wycliffe Mundopa, Better The Devil You Know. 2022. Cr. First Floor Gallery.
Wycliffe Mundopa, A Rose by Every Other Name Part 1. 2021. Cr. First Floor Gallery Harare.

Pachipamwe (We Meet Again) is showing at Southern Guild Gallery until 1 April 2023.

Image credits:
Installation shots courtesy of Hayden Phipps/Southern Guild.
Artwork images courtesy of First Floor Gallery Harare.

Written by: Holly Beaton