Friday, November 25, 2011

No pictures today. I need all the space for writing. A few weeks ago, the diary featured David Goldblatt’s remarkable photograph of jubilant parliamentarians celebrating the signing of the new constitution in front of the House of Assembly. You can view it on David’s current show at the Goodman Cape.

At the opening of the show, David told me he had had only thirty minutes to shoot the picture, taken from a high window in a building opposite the parliamentary buildings. Communication with his subjects was by bullhorn. After each shot was taken, the parliamentarians cheered and waved ecstatically and had to be subdued via the bullhorn for the next shot.

On Wednesday this week came the news that David has declined to accept the State Order of Ikhamenga Silver, awarded to South Africans who have excelled in the arts, in sports or in journalism. The letter was sent to President Jacob Zuma following Black Tuesday, the day on which the Protection of State Information Bill was passed in Parliament.

Wrote David, ‘Firstly … this action severely undermines our brave but fragile democracy and the rule of law. Secondly, I decline the award in protest against what has been done to the spirit in which the award was created.’

The letter in full can be found elsewhere on the net.

To my knowledge, David’s action is the first sign from artists that State patronage is no longer acceptable when that State attempts to muffle debate and silence the press.

One thinks back to the time of the 1979 State of Art in South Africa conference, when artists signed a pledge not to participate in any State backed art exhibition (and that included invitations to international biennales, then channeled through the government) until art education was open to all races. Artists refused from then on to give legitimacy to the apartheid government.

Sadly, it seems that the need of opposition to the State has once again arrived. Each of us will have to consider again what it is we need to do as artists and as South Africans to make the State understand how crucial it is to preserve the democracy which was achieved at such terrible cost.

We cannot sit back and just hope for the best.

Sunday, November 20

At 7 a.m. on November 12, the sun is already high in the Johannesburg sky. The rooftop bar of the 12 Decades Hotel is deserted, and looking down from there, the red roofs of the Arts on Main complex lie dead ahead.

All the rooms in the hotel are decorated by artists or designers. It’s a really cool place to stay.

My room, decorated by Dokter and Misses

I am in Johannesburg for an intensive conference on public art organized by Stephen Hobbs and Marcus Neustetter of the Trinity Session. On the first day, there’s a packed programme of presentations of public art and architectural interventions from around the country. The Johannesburg Development Agency has a policy in place that allocates 1% for art on public building projects – would the rest of the country please take note.

On day two, conferees can choose between tours of public art in Soweto, or in the inner city parks. A difficult choice, but I am interested in taking a look at Hillbrow and the city centre in their current manifestations, and it’s good to see how heavily the parks are used on this Sunday morning.

Mpho Mpolokeng talks about his playground project, next to a sculpture by Marco Cianfanelli

By 6 p.m. we are back up on the roof. By now, it’s pumping.

Donna Kukama and Roger van Wyk at the rooftop bar.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

What does one do with a piece of art that you have finished, but don’t really like and you certainly don’t want to have shown?

Jane Alexander once told me that in the very early stages of her career, the Butcher Boys period of the 80s, she was so concerned that a reject sculpture might be found frightening by rubbish collectors if dumped in the bin that she cut the sculpture up and took the pieces to the municipal dump herself.

I once took some poorly printed etchings to the local charity shop in Observatory, thinking at least they could be sold anonymously and raise a few bucks for a good cause, only to have Peet Pienaar gleefully announce a few weeks later that he had found a cache of my work and bought it in. One print must have been signed after all. My heart sank as I imagined the titters as Peet showed them around.

This week, like a unwanted body resurfacing, a steel book piece I made 20 years ago and never liked and finally threw into the recycling bin several months ago was carried back into my studio by our cleaner. Even the recyclers didn’t want it, it seemed. But strangely, when I opened up the plastic wrapping for the first time in ten years and had another look, time had softened by poor opinion of the work, and I think with a few changes ….

And on the social side, the Stevenson Gallery hosted a highly convivial dinner at Anatoli for visiting artists Frohawk Two Feathers and Angela Ferreira, following the opening of their excellent show at the gallery.