Santu Mofokeng. Easter Sunday Church Service. 1996. 

Looking at ‘Easter Sunday Church Service’ you get the sense that Santu Mofokeng is in search of something beyond the visible, only using the visible as a guide to get to the mystical; a smut surrounds the subjects as though carrying a purpose in itself within the space, conversely, the smut seemingly acknowledges the presence of the church goers - a dialogue with the laws of nature known to man, on the other hand, one’s humanity has not quite figured out yet - and so, as without the church goers, the space only exists in and of itself. That is the nature of Santu Mofokeng works, supernatural. 

A key tangent to Mr Mofokeng’s work: It wasn’t until wooden furniture renderings not being up to par for companies did kodak develop film that considered the variety of brown shades, even then not of skin tones until the 90s, all the while - it strictly idealised the beauty standard being that of fairer skin and so it is no surprise that we find most Santu Mofokeng images in black and white.

The Drumming, Johannesburg-Soweto Line, From Train Church. 1986.

Train Church. 1986.

My attraction to the geniuses work is how he is able to achieve a sensation in his images without the boredom of conveyance, I find such an attraction at a time when we’re constantly bombarded with images..all of which are pristine, without emotion, only the perfectly fluorescent; all you’re seeing, is all there is to be seen. An article in the ‘New Yorker’ writes on the process of Santu Mofokengs work; “Mofokeng would often use exhausted chemicals to give his photographs an ethereal edge.” Seeing through ideas even after the camera is set down sets about a sense of connection to the works that is metamorphosed, fragile and nostalgic to fleeting moments seeing for the first time since shot. 

Santu Mofokeng subject concerns has to do with capturing the intimate moments of the daily lives of black South Africans. Such an intrinsic search for a beauty outside of a system that shun tradition and culture so as to move the black community away from the soul of their being is a search for God. This approach was peculiar for the time as most photographers in South Africa were capturing the grotesque nature of the Apartheid regime.

Soweto. 1987

That world seems to have come to an end now, the search for sensation..in most painting work as well. Nonzuzo Gxekwa, Andile Bhala and Imraan Christian to mention only a few are however still in that realm and it’s beautiful to watch. 

Chief More’s Funeral, GaMagopa. 1989. 

Bibliography

Cole, T. (2017) ‘Victory in the Shadows’, The New York Times Magazine, 13 August, p. 12.

Color film was built for white people. Here’s what it did to dark skin. (2015). Vox. 18 September. Available at: https://youtu.be/d16LNHIEJzs (Accessed: 01 May 2023).

Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear,  Vincent van Gogh. 1889

We’ve all heard about the “tortured artist,” thinking, oof, I don’t want to end up there. Yet, you soon realise what they’ve created could’ve been a result of being in such a state of awareness; relentless persistence of observation, expression and individual psych. It has to do with the art of being; never getting away from it or allowing for mundane not-really-important interruptions to win, all in the spirit of getting to new and worthwhile (remember this word) ideas - all the while in solitude - that’s one of the requirements (at least to my experience).Tortured carries a negative connotation, in the world of an artist however, I believe it has to do with never truly shutting off; having a constant existing not only of the world around you but inside of you.

Flesh and Spirit,  Jean-Michel Basquiat.  c. 1982–83

Research suggests that bipolar disorder results in creativity. Often, not always. On the surface level, it explains everything as I can see the parallels by looking at a Basquiat, you think; such sudden bursts of creativity, the kind too that make for a great artist, how? I’m by no means suggesting he had a mental illness, I can’t speak on his state of mind, but what genius. I have but only admiral reverence. The trend does in fact persists in a way that one cannot refute the streams of genius seemly flowing from ill mental health issues.    

Conversely, it is believed the practice of art helps with stress, decreased depression and anxiety but honestly, the practice never helped me with that because the cycle of bringing ideas to life goes a little like this. In the being, there’s no “chasing of the clock,” tasks performed ordinarily or by rote; there are however times for keeping your head down and grinding it out, honestly, there is no formula I can suggest that makes for a concise proof. It’s getting the ideas out through sheer force. You sometimes don’t even know if idea is worthwhile, even after you’ve made it all the way to the end of it, baiting, trying to catch it, trembling and your lips quivering..the performances of a matador (violent disorder) at times, and on other occasions, the patience of a fisherman, something not short of the labour of love. See because sometimes the end result is just that, the end. In the book I’m currently reading, ‘Modernists and Mavericks’ by Martin Gayford, there’s a quote by Bridget Riley which I believe is an important guide to what we (artists) should be doing to alleviate anxiety, at least to some extent and it goes like this, “People feel that it is very important for artists to have an aim. Actually, what’s vital is to have a beginning. You find your aim in the process of working, You discover it,”  (Gayford, 2019, p43).    

Painting 1946,  Francis Bacon. 1946

I have ideas that I want to speak on through my work, tough ones; dreading to have the conversations with humanity myself. The art plays this role - never with vivid explanations - I value that, because the over-explanations take away from its mystique, bores the work; the work is however always honest, revealing and necessary (cannot do without it). The audience can be witness to every vehement moment I’ve encountered with the work, if only they were to look. Being a self-taught outsider, the self-doubt is incredibly paralysing; something I’m fighting constantly with marginal success I’ll say. I never like the idea of drawing or painting like other artists, it’s great as an exercise and all, but not when your emotional interests are concerned with their personal expression.

I guess I’ve realised that being in art is inevitable and worthwhile suffering, even necessary as it is an act that brings one closer to the act of God himself. “Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.” (F,Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment).

Bibliography

Dostoyevsky, F. and Garnett, C. (2018) Crime and punishment. San Diego, California: Canterbury Classics.

Gayford, M. (2019) ‘Euston Road in Camberwell’, in Modernists and Mavericks: Bacon, freud, Hockney and the London painters. London, UK: Thames & Hudson, pp. 43–43.

This is a question I have only recently stumbled upon, and is mainly inspired by my moments in the studio versus what I am witnessing amongst my fellow artists - some of whom have gone on to become successes in the naturalistic sense and others (myself included); learning, changing, mixing and crossing fingers.

Leonardo Da vinci. Saint John the Baptist, 1513 & 1516

It occurred to me that understanding the ways of the two, painter and audience, would be a natural place to go from. Now I exist in both worlds, as a painter and designer (namely graphic, for the time being) and the answer to the design work I find are often easier to get to: there are all sorts of studies, surveys and templates that are known and proven to have work, you can google just about any sort of design and you’ll land at a starting point guaranteeing success. Sure, you will change a colour here, the font size there, even remain in the popular style of the time and you’ll be guaranteed success without any measure as to your worth. Not to say there aren’t moments of phenomenal work, there can be. As for the painter, oh I don’t possess the eloquent language of the brilliant minds, vividly describing to you the flow moments in the studio when the material becomes alchemic as James Elkins speaks of in his book ‘What painting is’ or Mary Oliver writing of the ordinary mind in one of her essays titled ‘Of power and time’ in her book ‘Upstream”. But as the painter, I have been searching for the necessary moment in which it is okay to become the ‘audience;’ “what makes the smile mysterious,” “that’s just a blob of white paint” or “I could do that.”  I do however believe there is a danger in the idea itself, especially when the questions are at a surface level, only concerned with the market or trends, not a great place to be working from when seeking ‘greatness.’

Claude Monet. Water Lilies, 1897–99

Francisco Goya. They Do Not Know The Way, c.1810-1814

I’ll tell you; the exercise of paint is a very conscious one, an active engagement and you start to realise why on some days Leonardo would sometimes make his way to the church and not pick up the paint brush for his fresco. You see, I believe it is the material that offers the experience; the effects of the experience do consider the drive or walk to the work, the conversations had, a life lived a certain way, sure, but the fundamentality of the work itself lies in it’s moments had with the painter. What are such moments of brilliancy you wonder; it is Goya laboring on his ‘Disasters of war’ etchings, Monet miraculously capturing light in his ‘Water Lilies,’ having suffered significant loss of vision from cataracts and Leonardo creating atmosphere with the same will (you imagine) as God had with the words “Let there be light.” It is this dance that I believe leads to great works, and the lack of resulting in an artist who is strictly working in the way of a design product creative, with the likes of Damien Hirst leading the way.

Damien Hirst. For the Love of God, 2007

I am too currently engaged in this dance and I’ve decided my audience will be that of other greats, similar to how I know some of the greatest musicians, the likes of Kanye West, to be driven to make music  (My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy) better than their favourite artists.

I believe all the artist does is present the world as they see and have experienced it...at least that’s what I think the best art does, none of that conceptual stuff only open to a niche group (you know that group) whose dance is strictly one of a social experiment to see how far they can take the market before they realise it’s all phantasmagoric.  

Iincede 3. Oil on Cnavas. 2021

Ibhungane. Oil on Canvas. 2020