kagablog

this article first appeared in the Sunday Independent. published here by kind permission of mary corrigall

Like the spectral beings that haunt his art, Cyprian Mpho Shilakoe too appears an ephemeral character. Aside from his transient presence on earth - he died at the age of 26 - the supernatural abilities that are associated with him, and the title “mystic” that some ascribe to him, have all worked towards shrouding his persona and his talent under a veil of superstition.

Art world heavyweights have given credence to suppositions that Shilakoe possessed unusual psychic abilities. Linda Givon, proprietor of the Goodman Gallery, has suggested that Shilakoe foretold his own death; arriving at her Johannesburg gallery to bid her farewell a day before he died in a car crash. Fellow artist and friend, the late Dan Rakgoathe, was also open about Shilakoe’s telepathic abilities.

“Cyprian was like me - a mystic. We both used to communicate at a distance without being together,” Rakgoathe said in an interview.

Besides the anecdotes about his psychic abilities, factual accounts have focused on Shilakoe’s contribution to the incredible body of art that emerged from the Evangelical Lutheran Arts and Crafts Centre, known simply as Rorke’s Drift art centre, where he trained rather than his life story and unique aesthetic. So it is not too surprising then that the only portrait of Shilakoe that has emerged since his death in 1976 has been hazy, much like the indistinguishable, soft-edged figures that characterise his oeuvre.

However, a retrospective of his work now showing at the Johannesburg Art Gallery has allowed for a more comprehensive portrait of the artist to emerge. Research undertaken for the retrospective unearthed vital details about Shilakoe’s early life and lead to the discovery of a cache of undiscovered works by the artist that further prove that whatever supernatural abilities he may have possessed, they should not be allowed to overshadow his prolific output as an artist, and remarkable talent as an etcher and sculptor.

“Cyprian left an incredible body of work behind. He was extremely prolific. He was also a very skilled etcher. Not even etchings from the Michaelis (school of art in Cape Town) studio can compare,” observes Philippa Hobbs, one of the authors of Rorke’s Drift: Empowering Prints and manager of the MTN Arts and Culture portfolio, the sponsors of the retrospective.

Getting in touch with Emily Mahlungu, Shilakoe’s sister, widened the scope of the investigation into this iconic artist.

“Most of us in the South African art world had firmly believed that there were no members of the Shilakoe family still alive,” said curator Jill Addleson of her unexpected discovery.

Addleson and Hobbs wasted no time in meeting with Mahlungu at the Shilakoe family home in Dennilton, Mpumalanga.

When they arrived there, Addleson and Hobbs found a house untouched by time; since Shilakoe’s parents had passed away his siblings had rarely made visits to the family home. But more importantly, they also found a host of undiscovered artworks.

“When Emily opened the front door and led us inside to show us some of Cyprian’s works that were kept there, we were stunned. There were oil paintings - we had never seen any of his paintings - and numerous sculptures,” recalls Hobbs.

Shilakoe’s relatives had apparently reprimanded Mahlungu for hanging onto Cyprian’s “odd” sculptures. Mahlungu, however, couldn’t let them go and had even lovingly varnished some of the sculptures.

Although Mahlungu clearly valued her brother’s art, she was taken aback by the obvious enthusiasm of Addleson and Hobbs. “She had no idea that her brother was a famous artist,” says Hobbs.

“When we told her how famous her brother was in the art world, she burst into tears.”

Although one can attribute Mahlungu’s unawareness of her late brother’s standing to the gaping disconnection between rural and urban contexts in this country, the work from the Rorke’s Drift art centre and the artists who trained there have only recently gained prominence.

Owned by the Swedish Lutheran Church and run by Swedish art graduates, Rorke’s Drift was an independent arts institution that catered specifically for black students who had no access to formal art education.

“It was an international enclave that stood outside of apartheid,” said Hobbs.

The connection to the mission and the training of crafters at the centre also worked towards creating the impression that Rorke’s Drift was not a serious arts institution. The subversive nature of the work that was being produced at the centre, which appraised the social and political ethos of apartheid South Africa, also prevented Rorke’s Drift art from gaining acceptance in the South African art world in the Sixties, when the centre was established.

In fact, it was only in the early 1990s, when the exhibition Rorke’s Drift and After was staged at the Centre for African Studies, that art from the centre and its gifted graduates started to attract the attention of the South African art world. Hobbs implies in her book that the dissolution of the Nationalist government encouraged new readings of the art from the centre and the acknowledgement of the political undertones that characterised the art and elevated it to “struggle art”, a genre that is acclaimed in post- apartheid South Africa.

Shilakoe’s art covertly references the impact of apartheid on black South Africans.

Emotional trauma accompanying social disconnection is relayed through etchings such as Silence (1969), which features two forlorn ghost-like protagonists. A stream of dark tears stains the face of one, while the other figure’s head rests in his hands suggesting that he has accepted defeat.

Shilokoe’s childhood was marked by an early loss: the death of his grandmother, whom two-year-old Shilokoe was sent to live with in 1950. According to Mahlungu, Shilokoe was devastated by her death; he thought of her as his mother. His grief however, found a productive outlet in art, which he took up after her death. He was 16 when he returned to live with his parents at the Dennilton home.

Mahlungu noticed early on that Shilakoe was an unusual personality. He shied away from other children, preferring to immerse himself in making art. His artistic talent was obvious to all and caught the attention of his teachers at Paledi Secondary School, who advised his parents to take him to an art school. Soon after, Shilakoe was introduced to Rakgoathe, a school teacher and artist. Rakgoathe encouraged Shilakoe to join him at Rorke’s Drift.

By all accounts Shilakoe bloomed at Rorke’s Drift.

The Swedish tutors followed a “non-interventionist” approach to art education.

“The Swedes were squeamish about imposing ideas. While they introduced the students to new materials and techniques they preferred to encourage them to find their own expression,” explains Hobbs.

Despite this pedagogical approach, the Swedes couldn’t resist imposing some ideas on the students, which perhaps accounts for the subversive nature of the art that came from the centre.

“During art appreciation classes they showed the students images of labourers sweeping at a ‘whites-only’ beach and other provocative images that they hoped would encourage discussion, give them agency and develop them as individual thinkers,” says Hobbs.

While it might have been idealistic for the Swedish instructors to believe that they could create the ideal environment for art production, Shilakoe nevertheless flourished in the setting, developing a unique aesthetic that would set him apart from his fellow students and later international artists.

It was Shilakoe’s deft grasp of his medium, an intaglio process of creating spitbite acid plates, that allowed him to achieve subtle transitions of light and dark, engendering drama and conferring poignancy to his imagery.

Although he produced a low number of prints during his first year at Rorke’s Drift in 1968, attributed to intensive experimentation, a year later he had become not only a prolific printmaker, but he exhibited at the Durban Art Gallery and garnered much attention from art buyers and international visitors who frequented the centre.

Aside from excelling professionally at the centre, Shilakoe forged a close bond with Rakgoathe.

“Both men carried with them a deep sadness: an inner longing for relief from an ever-present restlessness, a rootlessness which could possibly be traced back to childhood loss,” writes Donvé Langhan in The Unfolding Man: The Life and Art of Dan Rakgoathe.

Shilakoe and Rakgoathe’s strong connection was not only based on shared experiences but the two friends also eschewed the moral and religious ethos of Rorke’s Drift, preferring to develop their own spiritual belief system, according to Langhan.

“Cyprian and Dan shared an essentially mystical view of the world. Both believed in extra-sensory perception, extraterrestrial life and reincarnation.”

No doubt Shilakoe’s spiritual philosophies must have infiltrated his art. The protagonists that fill his etchings certainly have an otherworldly presence; there is scarcely a dividing line between them and the environment in which they are pictured, so while they appear to surrender to the thick darkness that surrounds them, they are not rooted in it either.

Art historians have differing opinions on the abstract significance of Shilokoe’s oeuvre. Langhan proposes that the loss of the maternal figure of his grandmother explains the sense of solitude that pervades his work. In a 1990 Goodman Gallery catalogue, Karel Nel suggests that Shilakoe’s art manifests the effects of a migrant labour system and a harsh, alien urban environment.

Whether Shilakoe’s art expresses his mystical leanings, provides socio-political commentary on an apartheid South Africa or articulates personal tragedy, what is certain is that his art resonated with art lovers here and abroad.

As such a shining example of the Rorke’s Drift approach to art education, the centre invited him to stay on as an artist-in-residence after he graduated at the end of 1969. After clashes with the matron at the centre, Shilakoe left after two months and moved into St Angsar’s Mission in Roodepoort where he set up a studio with an etching press given to him by Rorke’s Drift.

By all accounts Shilakoe wasn’t a struggling art graduate looking for direction; he was a focused, confident and self-sufficient artist.

Givon, who describes him as a “serious young man”, recalls that Shilakoe arrived at the Goodman Gallery, put his work down in front of her, and politely informed her that he had selected her gallery to represent him in South Africa. Givon accepted and in 1971 he held his first solo exhibition at the gallery. In the same year his prints were shown in Belgium, Holland and West Germany.

Shilakoe’s career looked set to soar until his untimely death on September 7 1972 when he and Rakgoathe climbed into Shilakoe’s brand new Volkswagen kombi and drove through Soweto on route to see The Beatles’ movie Let it Be.

During his last visit to Rorke’s Drift, Shilakoe had done an etching of a tombstone entitled Time si (sic) Gone.

Of course, Shilakoe could have been grieving over the end of a fulfilling time spent at the art centre. However, for many of those he left behind who continue to lament his passing, it is perhaps more comforting to believe that this was a premonition and his way of coming to terms with his death.

• Cyprian Mpho Shilakoe Revisited: A Retrospective Exhibition is on at the Johannesburg Art Gallery until January 31 2008