kagablog

Mourners at the funeral of 2 United Democratic Front-aligned youths abducted and murdered in the “Natal War” that engulfed that region.

Cedric Nunn has captured turbulent times like a fly on the wall of the apartheid consciousness. Herein, by virtue of ‘being there’ (in true poetic sense) and with the accent on the lives of individuals, Nunn has expertly engaged the quintessential experience of what it was like to be black/coloured under apartheid. A mesmerising sorrow, forbearance, a remarkable resilience shines through the eyes of these Africans trapped in a world they knew could not sustain itself yet a world that had no intention of budging willingly. Where apartheid had inherently created a fierce unity, it strived to create a bloody division. And, as Mandela emerged from this scenario triumphantly in 1994 into a Democratic Dispensation, we heard the refrain: “Never again”.

The synchronicity of this exhibition is most earth shattering. Eighteen years into our ‘new administration’, the retrospective concentration of these images zapped me between my contemporary eyes with a bolt of awe. I felt compelled to assimilate this heady collective within the frailty of our current democracy. And I had to ask: “What on earth has happened to this country?” Were the high ideals of the revolutionary forces – ANC, Black Sash, Human Rights organisations, UDF, ECC, Artists – just a figment of an overheated imagination or were they just too heavy to carry forward? The baffling process of the TRC; Malema being sanctioned three years too late; the highest recorded rape statistics in the world; every time ‘the past’ comes up a group of the White Right tell us to ‘move on’ but they themselves don’t; the Black Right telling us that ‘Blacks cannot be racist’ giving impetus to more reverse racism; we have an education system that is buckling under pressure of non-delivery; the Hangberg debacle; corruption, robbery, hijackings are so commonplace one must conclude these are forms of employment…or retribution. And so the contentious issues of past and present, selective memory and historical fact have jostled in my consciousness in a dialogue that could quite easily have driven anybody insane. While there are no easy answers, I found Okwui Enwezor’s interview with Nunn ‘The Bright Light of the Maelstrom’ (pg 20-25) extremely enlightening and is a must-read component of the book ‘Call and Response’ upon which this exhibition is based.

And then I thought: OK….in the light of the events of smash-and-grab post apartheid let’s take out the emotional quotient from this viewing; take out the apartheid framework, and what is left? I see that I could be looking at the oppressed people of Argentina, India, Mexico, Russia, Afghanistan, Zimbabwe, China…..and I have to ask with a sad heart: ‘Are we just trapped in the dark imbalances of the way of the world: the have and have-nots; the rich and the poor; the suppressed and the free? How does anything change within a system of deep paternalism, hierarchical thinking, and one-upmanship?’

Where are these people now? Are they living a ‘better life’? Jobs, RDP houses, tap water and electricity? I found it telling that: the only relaxed smiling faces were those of Buthelezi and King Goodwill in all of his apartheid finery; the Black Sash demonstrators too terrified to look at the camera; a guest-house built in the 1880’s dismantled by land invaders; the ominous cleanliness of the IFP youths at a rally.

It seems that we, as a human species, cannot learn from history. Yes, this country has the best constitution in the world, but why is it being treated with contempt? What good is it if the voices of conscience are sidelined? What good is it if there are people in our country who are above the law? Where are the Mandela’s, the Tutu’s, the Hani’s? Why were task teams to educate the Nation on democracy not implemented? Presuming that non-qualified, under-trained and half-hearted Educators would fill this gap via Life Orientation in schools was a little thin on the euphoria of expectation.

Don’t get me wrong – I deeply appreciate that fact that our county is the free-est it has ever been. As a performer and artist I was very much part of this resistance – its just that there are some hard issues we need to face as a Nation as we slide down the slippery slope of: “It could all be happening again”.

Not to be missed!

Any school that holds itself even vaguely responsible for promoting education in schools whether it be via ART, Life Orientation or South African History, should be queueing to get their learners to this exhibition! And even so, no self respecting school library should be without a copy of the book!

On view until the 6th May 2012.

CALL AND RESPONSE

Published in 2011 by Hatje Cantz and Fourthwall Books
ISBN 978-0-9869850-1
Hard cover
144 pages
28.7 x 24 cm
R450.00 (incl. VAT)

I’M LOOKING FOR MY COUNTRY
There is MONEY here and naïveté,
MIX the two together and you get a MANUFACTURED CULTURE
there is also rubble and puddle and there is a huddle of people
but somewhere, somewhere there is a country
take the trees don’t mind the BEES ignore the NEWS
that building gets put into a muddle the LINES get READ between
but I’m just looking for my country
the WHITE boys confuse their mission
the WHITE girls are taking it all for granted
put up a NO-ENTRY sign turn right turn left turn right turn left turn right turn left

SOMEONE screamed too loud or too late
SOMEONE chose, leaving me to pick up the pieces
the CAR LOAD shattered into a million REASONS
when the left explodes its called the ANC
when the right explodes all I see are SHARDS of Hitler and FESTERS OF IGNORANCE
and yet those that THINK get blamed for causing the CONSCIENCE to collide
but I’m just looking for my country
that man is quite SICK he looks quite healthy but on CLOSER inspection
his HEART is a sickly shade of YELLOW my PILLOW gets WET from all these tears
they years are turning into coagulation and YES your dress is a mess
but I’m just looking for my country
No no no NO NO I don’t mind what LANGUAGE you speak just speak the same language
as me if only you’d throw your tongue FAR enough all over the world

there are people with problems but the KEY the KEY has been to open the door
not shut it in his face his RACE is MIXED but that’s no sweat he’ll win the race
don’t you want to know what’s going on because
I’m just looking for my country
take the WINNERS and the losers don’t think twice we think we’ve paid the price
but it looks like they want us to pay more for their patience has been running THIN
and the drums BEAT in the distance of your HEART and you start to pay no attention
did anybody mention there was a country here looking for me?
that BLACK man over there, he should be ahead and that man over there
he’s lost his CRUTCH not much to be done I’m AFRAID to DATE nothing much
has been happening that’s gonna make me take off
although I never thought I would live to see the release of the world’s most famous
PRISONER instead I land with a SCREECH about who is killing WHO
not much building to be done today but didn’t I say that
I was looking for my country?
the WEST they say is confused with some kind of a test the rest are headed towards
some kind of a PLAGUE SCAREMONGERING in a way that would make any MONKEY
wear a SHEATH the age of COUNT the cost is upon us the NEW shall sweep away the
old even though they act so BOLD but out there somewhere is a country
WAITING for the BREAK
waiting for the INFORMATION
waiting for the NEW GENERATION

take me he she it they theirs those these them I
I’ve been waiting quite a long while now and the CLOAK gets heavier
and someone is switching off all the LIGHTS the DARKNESS
never scared me thought I have my own light tonight
TONIGHT I wish I would fall in love LOVE love love love but that GLOVE
you’re wearing is so old its COLD hey didn’t I say
there was a country here?
PRAY I’ve heard them say that we should pray but the only thing that truly preys
around here are those REAL animals we only get to see on our TV SCREENS
then someone went and blamed the lack of OZONE on an aerosol can and clean
forgot about the ATOMIC contest
I wonder who’s MONEY is invested?
This large ZOO has me tongue tired and then someone went and tied our hands
behind our backs and the TRACKS were washed away in the FLOODS
BLOOD BLOOD flows thicker than water in any COLOUR mother, mother
I’m just looking for my country
help me help me help me don’t just stand there THROW a cartwheel
place a bet or just get the hell out of here or else I’ll tell the world on you
I could go to hell for you in fact I’ll get a HARD ON for you if you’ll only just stay
and play with some kind of REAL interest not thinking about what to TAKE
but rather trying to MAKE something out of it,
this CENTRE WHICH CANNOT HOLD
like a CAMEL on the tip of an ICEBERG
like a BEAST that cannot BEAST
and WHO told you to THINK for yourself huh?
you want to be a REBEL too?

They make it THAT easy but don’t go thinking that it is THAT EASY
or how about being like one of those university lecturers who seem to think
that ANARCHISTS come in package deals?
The TRUTH is hard to come by REALITY is in short supply and just try
just try and stop them making BOMBS! Didn’t I hear them say there was a
country here looking for me?
A CONFUSION OF TONGUES and a MISCALCULATION of the weather
don’t know whether I’m going to make it through the night
where were you when I needed you
things were CHANGING in a way that was making all of us loose PATIENCE
but not anybody was needed to fill this gap which had become a VACUUM
and who lit you a CIGARETTE while others were burning down BRIDGES?
Hey man, are you alive or are you dead? Your head is probably in need of repair
care to mention why your heels DRAG so or is your new suit enough for you?
Don’t give me the same old story isn’t it time for something BOLD?
The city is the place to be but why all the BARRICADES I thought a sign of VIBRANCY
was when CONNECTIONS were being made and didn’t I hear someone say something
about a country with only ONE forty-five year old HORSE?
It’s a cry in the night for a long dark overdue with a HUE and a cry I try to keep
my head above going UNDER I wonder who else thinks like this?
I need to live with you WITHOUT the barriers
how far do you want to go now
I’m still just looking for my country
HEY COUNTRY BOY are you close enough are you BOLD enough
is there MUD in you EYE and GRIT beneath you nails?
Are you to be my guide can you take this all in your STRIDE?
Aaah but I see a head that’s been bred on a NAZI mentality and so I just can’t help
wondering what you MOTHER looks like so don’t bury your head in the SLUDGE
it gets hard to breathe when you’re six feet deep and DOING everything
you can to stay alive its after five in the morning and very little else is dawning
and someone has just asked me out but they’ve FORGOTTEN its all wrong
they just don’t know where they are heading there’s a landing somewhere
almost close by but
I’m still just looking for my country
I asked him to use his IMAGINATION and he looked at me as if I were responsible
for HIS FLAT TYRE he’s not going anywhere anyway but he needs to blame somebody
ANYBODY out there with a broader point of view who could come to my RESCUE
there’s something to be learnt from a MISTAKE but this takes the entire slice of cake
and WHO baked you an APPLE? And just what do you do with those COLOURS that
BRILLIANT in spite of the DULL THUD of your EYES?
Take away the rules and we get some IDIOTIC MALE with illusions of ADEQUACY
practising every form of MISCONCEPTION and won’t someone give me a clue
as to where I am going to find my very own PENIS?
It all depends on whose side you’re on if you are not on the one
you’re an enemy of the other and I cannot think of anything more INHOSPITABLE
but if you’re on MINE you seem unable to SPEAK
so STAND UP and get ready to SPIN if you dare
no don’t GRIN way ahead of my time they said
well that’s what its like when you’re on a LADDER that reaches for the SKY
and I would die I could just fall down ALIVE
if I don’t find this country
won’t somebody give me the LEFT OVER forms to fill in so that I can get this all right?
But do you mind, I think I’m gonna just have to help myself if only you’d keep your
SHADOW to yourself and stop passing the BUCK
it’s a long time since I last had a FUCK
but it’s all just a matter of choice which is no way of saying anything at all
but I did not say that I was trying to COMPROMISE or even meet you a THIRD
of the way its not much fun getting RUN OVER this way
the BRUISES don’t show and this WAY seems to go on forever with myths
and counter myths COUNTER spies and counter INFORMERS counter
COUNTER BEURO’S some councillors got stuck in that war time ZONE
and all of THIS is supposed to make SENSE?!!!
But I’m just looking for my country
last night feels like a year has gone by but for you TIME seems to have no meaning
so just try, just try holding our BREATH for a minute or two and you say you’re
CONFUSED and lack DIRECTION?
Well the answer would bite you were it a snake its so close
everything seems so close so close so close its almost WORTH the GAMBLE
today today I could not tell if you were a boy or a girl
but you would not let me hold your hand you STOPPED everything at your HEART
you weren’t prepared to take the risk and I, I, I, I, I tried, I tried, I tried
but still could not break through and yet you still expect me to break my BACK for you
SLAY three dragons for you but
I’m just looking for my country
and don’t ask
yes do ask all the AWKWARD questions one of them is bound to throw the FAT
into the fire there is so much BLOOD being swept under the carpet
but do not ask NO DO NOT ASK the policeman why he hasn’t got any MANNERS
as he comes barging in or BULLDOZING over or whatever it is that he likes to
call himself BIG DADDY told him manners maketh the COWARD and somewhere
along he way BIG MOMMY must have agreed oh I’ve been told that MOTHERS
rule the world but this is ridiculously INCOMPATABLE
and whose generation gap is this anyway?
And just WHAT do you do with a young BLACK BOY whose first TRAUMA trauma
was being dragged behind a police van in a DUSTBIN with a lid on it? But
I’m just looking for my country
and how are your SOCIAL SHARES standing today huh? UP or down?
Did somebody start a nasty RUMOUR about you too? That’s all they ever seem to do
around here is to talk AT each other over the ‘phone, it makes them think that they’re
alive living their lives through other people’s lives over the phone the telephone
syndrome it goes on for weeks years months and hours about other people taking risks
oh my just look at the time in just under five minutes he or she will be home
and I haven’t even slaughtered the HORSE yet and there are those that confuse
CHRIST with CHRISTIANITY and place mongering and GOSSIP with FICTION above
FACT I wonder who told them to NARROW their minds it surely wasn’t CHRIST
but I’m just looking for my country
and then he likes to play DEAD just when you think he’s coming alive
and then he hides in the CLOSET and pretends to be ALERT
who INVERTED him with a girlfriend under one collar and a SURFBOARD
under the other BOOT now they’re ready for any BEACH south of the BORDER
but his mommy likes it this was but her daddy isn’t too sure and he tries to remember
with EFFORT the passport to HETEROSEX but the ball got lost trying to decide which
way to BOUNCE an OUNCE or a pound of your FLESH will pay for yet another CRIME
which breeds PESTILENCE once there was a way but he still seems to think
that every LOVE SONG is about HIM
and yes I can see the BLOOD as it oozes from your BROW in unquenched
unsurrendered DESIRE and
I’m still looking for my country
the CAT grinned at me in that KNOWING way but I knew it knew nothing
it only seemed that way but you were taken in
you haven’t yet learnt how to tell what is REAL and what only PRETENDS to be real
you’ve always been fooled by the SHINY face you’re trying to hard to be ORDINARY
you’re beginning to DIE INSIDE you haven’t had a single thought in your head you
can call your own I enjoy my own company anyway even though this country is
INVISIBLE
in fact it’s DIVIDED and the heat is on for a NEW NATION
but the platform gets over crowded and the TRAIN just will not arrive at all being
STALLED with white hands and BLACK hearts with BLOOD on their seats and BLOOD
on the walls, BLOOD in the gullies, and BLOOD on the tracks must more BLOOD SPILL?
And then I see this hand which asks for money
but honey, honey, I just don’t have any can’t you see I’m just like you
without these clothes? I’ve had my fare share of CULTURAL TORTURE so why make a
bee line for me or is it just that I have a white skin?
So let’s get back to the end and practise what we preach or else we remain out of reach
so TEACH me TEACH me the value of being me in this land I’m trying so hard to reach.
And then somebody asked if I was BORN here and I said where? where? where?
And he repeated what he didn’t say and then this voice in the WILDERNESS asked if I
was lost and I said well NO not really I’m just sitting on the EDGE of my seat even if I
watch this film it’s still some form of FOREIGN contact the distance seems less far
are you tall enough to reach the bottom?
If the shoe fits throw it away
today today I am going to stop play if things don’t reach some form of APPARITION
and you say you want to be my friend yet when you see the PRICE you ain’t got no
GUTS so just be nice to me huh for once
I’m at the end of my tether
but that’s what its like when you are MAROONED without a saving grace and the
only thing to do has been to TRANSFORM to take an INTERNAL JOURNEY
I’m at the end of the weather
don’t know whether I am ever going to find
my country

Paternalism: the policy or practice on the part of people in positions of authority of restricting the freedom and responsibilities of those subordinate to them in the subordinates’ supposed best interest.

South Africans generally, across all race groups suffer from PATERNALISM: too scared to challenge authority because to do so is seen to be going against ‘the father’. This sickness in our society underlines our inability to openly (and justifiably) confront stupid rules and regulations. If you DO, you are labelled a TROUBLEMAKER and people view you with AUTOMATIC suspicion. The AUTOMATIC underlying notion is that the SYSTEM (i.e. the father) cannot be wrong and it is YOU that is in the wrong, In short, the system is inviolate and to challenge it is to challenge GOD.

Exactly WHO do you think you are?

On a personal level I have always found that if you challenge authority you are seen to be challenging the PERSON responsible for the implementing the authority. The silly person has totally identified them self with the silly rule i.e. it all gets taken personally.

Subsequently we have, I think, one of the most violent societies in the world.

We all know how paternalism manifests in the private domain: domestic violence (battery), rape, misplaced discipline, authoritarianism, teenage rebellion in the form of: drug abuse, pregnancies, suicides, bullying, wanton rebellion etc etc etc.

Paternalism is of course chauvinist: and with that goes racism, sexism, ageism, homophobia, xenophobia, fear.

Because paternalism presumes to know what’s good for you, it also presumes to control how you should think, what you should like, who you should associate with, how you should spend your time, what you should wear, and who you should worship.

Paternalism opens the door for weirdos who want to weild their wiley power willfully: Hitler, Verwoed, Mugabe. And it looks like it now wants to open the door for Malema too.

I am convinced that paternalism is behind our extraordinary high incidence of traffic accidents where idiots scream around our roads (particularly at 4 am) thinking that they are invincible! I do not think there is a single traffic light (even the most obscure ones) at any major intersection in Durban that has not been christened with death, destruction, ruined lives.

PATERNALISM underlines and accentuates any clashes in the public domain where there is poor governance, poor leadership, poor service delivery, corruption, and nepotism. Those in authority seem to think that they can do what they like purely because they are in authority and ALSO because AUTHORITY to them IS INVIOLATE and they PRESUME that it should NEVER BE QUESTIONED. The fact that what they are doing is UNJUST never seems to register with them. They develop a type of schizophrenia that defies their level of insight and their ability to make sound moral judgements based on impartial assessment of facts. I have seen even the most highly educated people stick to what they consider to be ‘principle’ in spite of damning logical common sense evidence to the contrary!

The sum total of the attitude is IMMATURITY: political, social, spiritual, emotional.

The entire construct upon which APARTHEID was based was on PATERNALISM.

I am of the opinion that it was because of PATERNALISM that apartheid survived for so long.

It is now an accepted fact that apartheid could not have been MORE WRONG.

Why then does paternalism continue to exist?

Paternalism is fostered by lack of knowledge or half-knowledge both of which are of course framed by IGNORANCE.

Paternalism favours a TOP DOWN approach which creates short term solutions for long term problems.

Paternalism has a ‘structure’ to it and people therefore ‘relate’ to it easily: it is adopted comfortably and belies the intricate manner in which people relate meaningfully to one another.

Paternalism is the ever pervasive negative manifestation of patriarchy.

Paternalism is propagated by almost all religions.

Subsequently we live in a PUNISHMENT DRIVEN SOCIETY.

And as we move more and more into our democratic/lateral thinking society paternalism feels more

and more threatened. It thus lashes back with a violent and brutal vengeance!!

I have an inbuilt AVERSION to PATERNALISM.

BUT

just IMAGINE

if we lived in a

REWARD DRIVEN SOCIETY!

ISBN 9781466462106

Physics, distinguished from that of chemistry and biology includes: mechanics, heat, light and other radiation, sound, electricity, magnetism, and the structure of atoms.

Poet: a person possessing special powers of imagination or expression

This is an exceptionally well-written uncontrite and at times humour-filled tale of seemingly trite White South African life in the dying days of apartheid….into the crossover of the ‘new’ reality…where the relatively sudden adjustment of having to accept that the ‘swart gevaar’ was to be the New Government was as difficult to grasp as any interrupted dream might be. Set in Durban between 1988 and 1990 this is an earnest coming-of-age story of teenage angst as it negotiates a way through sex, drugs and alternative music.

And then a gap in this nightmare: ‘Faces’ nightclub….a fissure enough to affirm a vital perspective.

Relating events is Charl Forth (roughly fifteen in the earlier parts of the story) who is in the throes of realizing that things are not quite right in this land of Nod. Not to mention the omnipresent emotional dishonesty bred through political disinformation that is fostered hand in hand with contorted truth. This reality check is eventually highlighted with the release of Nelson Mandela causing disparate political undercurrents within relationships to become starker: life was indeed very dire hanging at this abyss-edge of total onslaught. One scenario: as Belinda (the girlfriend) and Charl boringly await the release of Mandela from prison (poor T.V. coverage) their dialogue reveals Belinda’s racism and growing sense of threat welling up as a need for sexual affirmation.

The narrative of ‘Physics for Poets’ interweaves subtle allegorical cross linkages and nuances of sexual current/oppressive heat/weather/human behaviour/political change perceptively and craftily within the backdrop of contortions within family life. As such this tale becomes a most poetically inventive, linguistically ingenious, politically left convolution of these problematic times. The over-all dynamic of the text – where sentences and imagery constantly clip-flip into place – gives a sense that Charl is dealing with the intricacies of a South African Rubik’s Cube.
A troubled youth attempting to find cognizance of life’s profound imports while being held in the travails of its ubiquitous cavernous insanity: apartheid – perversely in every nook, cranny, classroom and graveyard. Charl is not only trying to negotiate his way through matric, he also has to face his own demons.

The grim prospects of a warped education system….hell bent on indoctrination….robbing white South Africans of authenticity – is well captured. To not be sucked into the convention needed a cutting edge intelligence counter balanced by a willingness to live in the moment. But, as Syd Kitchen famously said: “South Africa is not for sissies” we realise it is for those who somehow manage to plumb some depth into their psyche honestly, that salvation is possible. This twist of cognizance comes as a calibre that cannot be earned lightly: a spiritual mettle that cuts through the silly double-speak and one-upmanship with deftness….while at the same time realising that the bigger picture is far more serious….if not just a pack of cards so easily collapsible. Charls’ anarchy therefore rests in his spontaneity and he emerges as the antihero not indifferent to the scores he settles (private and political) launching his broadsides with startling accuracy. As such the innate (poetic) mien of his nature is affirmed. He represents the LIFE apartheid tried so hard to quell. The crime (for those who are not aware) is that this is any person’s automatic birthright.

The language is sharp and the sentences bristle with inventiveness and perspicacity. The pace is measured and, as such, creates space for the undercurrent to surface. The situations unfold effortlessly yet surprisingly. I could not put the book down – until closing it with a broad smile on my face. A must read.

ps: the club ‘Faces’ referred to – and experienced – in the novel quite clearly is PLAY at the Community Arts Workshop in Walnut Road. This barn-like building stood next to what became Tilt Night Club and was demolished in 1989 to make way for the multi-story Bureau de Change.

http://www.bookdepository.com/Physics-for-Poets-Nick-Darcy-Fox/9781466462106

10.66

Otherwise the kindle can be found here:

http://www.amazon.com/Physics-for-Poets-ebook/dp/B006NZFX8K/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1329442134&sr=8-8

as well as the actual book here:

http://www.amazon.com/Physics-Poets-Nick-Darcy-Fox/dp/1466462108/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1329442134&sr=8-3

keep reading this article here: http://djbadly.tumblr.com/

A response to the article in the Saturday Independent (14 January 2012) by Mr. Mchunu, MEC for Education in KwaZulu-Natal entitled “Come help us out of the rut”.

On the surface, this article by Mr. Mchunu, MEC for Education KwaZulu-Natal, in response to an analysis of matric achievements by Professor J. Jansen the previous week, comes as a heartfelt plea for a broader perspective on problems facing the Education Department. However, these broader issues conveniently rose-tints, disregards or misinterprets very pertinent points raised by the Professor.
To me, the core of Professor Jansen’s article is the fact that since 2008 (?) a matric result other than a minimum of 6 straight A’s does not hold much value.

The ‘rut=rot’ did not happen overnight.

As an Ex Educator who was unfairly dismissed because the teaching situation within an urban school was UNTENABLE (racist/xenophobic/strikes/bullying/ pandemonium) and which had a devastating effect on my health, I feel that the Education Department does very little, if anything, to curtail forms of abuse that constantly creep into the system. I have since faced three years (thus far) of punishment – financial, emotional, mental, social – for standing up for my rights via a lack of support structures within, followed by interminable legal procedures without. The Education Labour Relations Council Arbitrator brilliantly issued two conflicting awards! What was left of my teaching career lies in tatters. Given our hard-won Constitution, Democracy, and my creative dedication in the classroom, not to mention my anti-apartheid and cultural history, this is nothing short of a scandal. I need to point out that if Mr. Mchunu was interested in Education in any real sense, if only in ratifying the importance of Educator morale, he, or somebody within the system would have intervened a long time ago. The point is that this is but ONE example of an unacceptable development within HIS Department that gets ignored. This does not prevent it from ramifying through and burdening the Education system with distaste. As a result the system collectively grows that much more brain dead and the rot gains deeper impetus.

If I am being set up as an example of what happens to Educators who say no to the rot, the situation becomes even that much more shameful!

While Mr. Mchunu draws attention to the much needed advances that have been implemented since 1994 and one must commend the country on the whole for its progress since then, what we all know is that these redesigns have been undermined by maladministration, corruption and a contemptuous Education Department that has failed Educators and Learners alike. The ‘show of pure political theatre’ that has appalled Professor Jansen appears to me as symptom of these deep fissures of unease.

With honest application the MEC for Education could quite easily have the entire nation on his side. It is this more than anything our country needs right now from its leaders. If he is incapable of that, maybe he should just resign?

Kind regards,

Helge JanSSen (ex Life Science Educator, Brettonwood High School)

ps: while we all know that there are rotten teachers, rotten politicians, rotten lawyers etc. the system does nothing to curtail this development. If anything, rotten teachers, rotten politicians etc. make up for their inabilities and short-falls by being staunch supporters of corrupt minders. It is a sorry state of affairs.

What the world needs now……is Jaspar Lepak – “Forgiving Wind”

What is so powerful about Jaspar is that she has a gift for honing in on those sensitive and often negated emotions that a brash life continues to trash, to render unimportant, and turns them the right way round replacing them in our consciousness, giving them the stature and value that they deserve. As such Jaspar does not complain about the old order of things – she simply rearranges it and presents us with the innovative result! I find this heroic, and revolutionary.

This is the fascinating essence of Jaspar Lepak.

As such Jaspar is refocusing Country and Western/Folk music in an updated, modern context…..while never losing sight its roots. From the deepest heart of her experience her understanding of human emotion spills into the spread of the collective unconscious of our time. A particular example of this aspect of Jaspar’s focus:

“Plain as you” –

‘A word that brings the heart to light
Is worth the dark and sleepless nights
And the melody that frees the shame
Is worth the journey through the pain’

These words ring a resonance with a deep reverence and respect for life’s seemingly insignificant gems that are hard won – that heal, that nurture.

Jaspar’s musical arrangements and compositions are hauntingly beautiful and mesmerizingly melodic, never overstated, always stripped to an essence and diligently refined. I say this having experienced the vast array of varying perspectives of her compositions in a ‘live’ context (Mzanzi Museum, Bluestockings, St. Clements, Eagles View) and then being rewarded with the distillation as represented on “Forgiving Wind” Jaspar’s 5th CD release. It has been an honour to have witnessed this creative process at first hand, in real time, here in Durban South Africa with an artist of the stature of Jaspar Lepak.

No virtual reality this.

“Nothing to Dream”

….dreams die slow
and you don’t even know
how you let them fall
so far behind…..

We have all experienced this process in our waking moments as we slowly forget the previous nights dream: here, applied to the sense of loss at not living one’s dream in life, becomes a statement of profound proportions. And yet, while this happens so slowly, reflectively it seems to have happened in a flash. To me, this song has the effect of heightening the sense of ‘now’, creating urgency about living in the present. There is also a warning of what it is like to not live consciously and have the courage to take life-affirming risks. Sean Ross’ bass line ties this song together most cleverly.

My current favourite is undoubtedly “Hollow Part”. The intertwining of the banjo (Bryan Eaton) and the mandolin (Richard Haslop) is inspired, and I love the accordion cord changes in particular (Kale Lepak) and the way it swells, comes to the fore, then gently recedes into the background once more, colouring the subdued moments for Jaspar’s lucid voice to have heightened impact.

“I know a woman” deals essentially with the mismatch of paternalism and of its expectations and abuse, bringing to the fore the feminine courage and fortitude needed to harness this negative energy. This ‘seeing’ of Jaspar’s brings a transformative recognition to the unfair hand of women being subjected to a matrix of pervasive assumptions that have continued to spread from generation to generation – and how women themselves have sometimes been party to this propagation. This is a song of epic proportions and is the gender-based (as opposed to indigent-based) version of ‘Streets of London’ where Jaspar takes us by the hand and leads us through the chambers of the female heart: be it daughter to mother, woman to wo/men, woman to way of the world, or the world to the Goddess.

“People won’t like you” with Rowan Stuart on slide/lead guitar, is a bluesy driving plait of guitars and a marvellous example of letting go, of trusting in the power of one’s inner voice and joyously cutting loose from expectations that hold one back. The myriad slants of the inner dialogue of self-doubt instigated by a lack of resonance from a partner are turned inside out and then underlined with a flip of a single word – by replacing ‘won’t’ with ‘will’ in the final chorus line title of this song!

Every track on “Forgiving Wind” is a winner and is a marvellous contribution to the world of thoughtful reflection as antidote to the pollution we evidence coming from the mindless music output that feeds mass immobility. It also comes as a huge boon to the music scene in Durban where the talents of Durban based musicians – Bryan Eaton, Sean Ross, Nibs van der Spuy, Richard Haslop, Shawn Lovell, Rowan Stuart, Brent Quinton – have been put to excellent use.

Photographs of Jaspar in the Drakensburg Mountains were taken by Kale Lepak . Illustration and Art Design is by Amelia of www.whimsy.co.za. The CD was recorded and mixed by Brent Quinton at the Boiler Room in Durban and mastered by Greg Reierson at Rare Form Mastering in Mpls. MN.

Nothing lost, everything gained.

A beautiful Christmas gift awaits a deserving friend!

2009, Canada,
Bob Christie – Director

This film takes us on a world Pride journey, following the Vancouver Pride Society’s Parade Director Ken Coolen and his VPS colleagues to places still steeped in rampant homophobia. The film includes a look at the Human Rights barometer of each country visited. As such it gives an alarming and sometimes terrible insight into the global condition of Human Rights abuses, focusing on homosexuality in particular. The film demonstrates the vast spectrum of Pride… from Sao Paulo’s government-sponsored celebration that has grown to three million people in just 10 years, to Moscow and Warsaw Pride, where Coolen is one of the few brave souls who dares to march among violent radicals and witness for himself their aggressive hatred.

In 2006 the Human Rights Watch declared Jamaica the worst country on earth for its level of homophobia. Homophobia is a particular part of the Rastafarian religion, as is sexism, paternalism and misogyny. It is for this reason that I will NEVER support the legalisation of ganga, no matter which country seeks it and for whatever reasons. Until this religion is able to address these pertinent issues, ganga MUST remain an illegal drug. I know so many people who smoke this stuff who are completely unaware of this association. I say this particularly as the ‘sell’ line for the legalization of the stuff –well at least in this country – is the fact that it is part of ‘their religion’.
Russia too, is like the dark ages. Sri Lanka, Saudi Arabia, Serbia, Poland are shocking. Quite often religion is blamed, Catholicism in particular. It is little wonder that creeds of many persuasions are at the root of close-mindedness, intransigence: what to me translates as mental illness. One also calls to mind recent Facebook campaigns highlighting the shocking level of homophobia in Nigeria. There are 80 countries where homosexuality is illegal and in 7 countries punishable by death.
Canada, Brazil (which has approximately 140 Pride marches a year!) tops the list in Human Rights awareness. It would have been interesting to see how South Africa would have fared where, in spite of our enlightened constitution; there is still so much rampant homophobia with the despicable incidents of ‘corrective rape’ of Lesbians and the murder of male homosexuals.
This film has the effect of conscientizing the audience into the concern that ongoing pride ‘demonstrations’ of freedom is a vital ingredient of solidarity that must not wane through complacency. Amongst others, the film interviews Gilbert Baker, the man who designed what is now the universal Rainbow flag. Homosexuality knows no colour, no creed, no boundaries.
As recent as 2004, while teaching Natural Science to a grade nine class I noticed homosexuality being linked to prostitution in their class notes, as being morally reprehensible. This lead to lively discussion after which I removed the offending page and ‘upgraded’ their notes! There was also an incident at one of my schools (2008) where the parents of a 10 year old boy was asked to take their child out of the school because ‘he was the instigator’ of a homosexual encounter and he could see nothing wrong with what he had done! The dark cloud of homophobia within our schools needs urgent addressing through workshops, awareness campaigns, and through conscientizing our educators.
The film focuses on the astonishing array of characters that make up the pride marches globally and the undoubted flamboyance of the outfits, the make-up, the strut, the exuberance! I have personally never seen any characters dressed up to this extreme at any gay club. I have seen it happen at straight parties where straight men exaggerate the make-up and send up the gay scene in a humorous and fun way…..if not with a surprising level of closetness! So I see the Pride parade as pushing the boundaries of visual expression so as to make the ‘normal’ gay person appear quite sane in comparison. This becomes an interesting psychological perspective thus challenging the narrow minded to allow these eccentricities of expression to happen within a broader spectrum of acceptance and tolerance.
And in the words of Steven Roche, Senior Psychology Lecturer UKZN: “Homosexuality is the last acceptable prejudice,” we realize that complacency could quite easily reverse the long road that we have travelled. I am quite sure that the director, Bob Christie, would agree!
The only drawback to this film, for me, is the camera work. In places it is too jerky, too rapid fire, too unsettling, too pacey….and I am not referring to obvious areas where there is danger to the cameraman. Personally I do not have a problem with my attention span where the subject matter is already so interesting, and I do not have a problem with ADD. The film needs some ‘slow-mo’s’ and/or some serious editing.
BUT:
Pride is more than a parade and a party.
It is a giant step towards true human equality.
FREEDOM FACTS

30+ Years of…
• Vancouver Pride
• International Lesbian & Gay Association
• Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardis Gras
• Rainbow Flag as community symbol
• 40 years since the Stonewall Riots gave birth to the modern Gay rights movement
• 60 years since the signing of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights

BUT THERE’S STILL A LONG WAY TO GO…

• More than 80 member states of the United Nations still criminalize consensual same sex acts among adults, thereby institutionally promoting a culture of hatred
• Only 49 countries worldwide have anti-discrimination laws that include sexual
orientation
• In the U.S., there is no Federal Law to protect LGBT people from workplace discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity
• Only 8 U.S. states have legislation that provides specific laws to prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation
• Seven countries still penalize consensual same sex acts with the death penalty
• The UN notes that laws criminalizing homosexuality violate international laws that seek to protect individuals’ rights to privacy and freedom from discrimination
• By definition, human rights principles apply to all of us, simply by virtue of being born human
• Moscow rejected over 165 applications to permit a Pride event in 2008

HOWEVER, IT’S ENCOURAGING TO NOTE…

• In Brazil, where the Ministry of Tourism began sponsoring and promoting Pride only 8 years ago, Pride is now hosted in over 30 different cities, including the world’s largest in São Paulo that was attended by 4 million people in 2008
• Vancouver’s 2008 Pride parade was the largest the city had ever hosted, with
525,000 participants and spectators – 2009’s parade topped that with 630,000

Mulligans: 2008, Canada, Chip Hale – Director

College students of the so-called norm of wealthy American/Canadian society scream around insanely, guzzle booze, have sex, and have nothing to worry about in an expect-driven framework that shutters any hope of contact with their authentic selves: their sexuality framed by silent taboos that never get questioned. This frantic drive to speed-up the moment seems to get faster and faster in the herd-like determination to be as shallow, as insensitive as possible, and to reject that which does not ‘fit in’. It is this framework that makes ‘coming out’ so difficult forcing a homosexual person into repression. This is so buried in this strata of the American machismo psyche that a lot of the time they are completely unaware of the import: the unconsciousness can be likened to a time when it was so fashionable for people to smoke cigarettes having little idea of the cancerous results.
Such is the façade of the ‘American Dream’.

And, due to this overwhelming drive, supported by friends and family, they succeed until inevitably, if they are lucky, real life happens. In a nutshell, this is what Mulligans is about. The title comes from a rule in golf that allows a shot to be replayed.

The early student freneticism in the film perfectly captures the contrast of that impending life-standing-still moment. The pace and rhythm of the film, and therefore the timing which is so well done, becomes a vitally important element in the telling of this story. The script (the work of Charlie David who plays Chase Rousseau) intelligently tackles poignant issues regarding prejudice, friendship, intimacy and the ever-mysterious workings of human emotions that may be buried, but which are never quite dead.

A wealthy college student Tyler (Derek James) brings his best mate Chase Rousseau home for the summer holidays. Tyler was the result of a teen pregnancy (thus leading to the marriage of his parents) and is now twenty years old. He has a much younger sister Birdy (Grace Vukovic). I found the gap in the ages of the siblings to be an authentic psychological element where the young girl’s quips and insights (which, come to think of it, could never have happened if the child was a boy either) reveal a far more relaxed upbringing than that of Tyler who is tense, not at ease with himself. There is a sterling portrayal of the mother Stacey (Thea Gill) and a finely tuned and sensitive portrayal of the father Nathan (Dan Payne) who is awakened by Chase. Their temperamental interplay indicates the gradual and slow (imperceptible) dying of the spark that had no doubt ignited the existence of their first-born and reflects an excellent grasp and understanding of the imminent emotional turmoil. The director, Chip Hale exhibits an excellent grasp of the script. As such, the film avoids both melodrama and stereotype. The character of Chase is, of course, utterly central to the drama and is a fantastic depiction of a coming-out College student who one would never have suspected as ‘being gay’. It is his disclosure that awakens the father to explore a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take back his authentic self.

While Chase had tested his relationship with Tyler in unveiling his sexual orientation, in the hard light of the discovery of the affair with Tyler’s father, Chase says half to himself: “What was I thinking?” He has now, once again, risked his friendship with Tyler by tearing his family apart.

What is particularly rewarding about the script is the matter-of-fact common sense acceptance of past choices made, with sadness, inevitably regret, but not with bitterness or hatred. So in spite of the ‘dysfunctional’ family scenario, all the characters respect each other and accept responsibility in a very human way. This allows for a resolution, which is by no means neat or convenient.

What makes this film, and films of this quality a must-see – given our particularly homophobic society – is the reflection that emotional interplay at any level between two people whether gay or straight, is no different.
And yes, the film can be likened to the classic “The Graduate” as stated in the press release notes. Sadly, what it doesn’t have is a Simon and Garfunkel-like hit song to go with it.

Next showing at the DGLFF @ KZNSA GALLERY, BULWER ROAD, GLENWOOD:
Friday 10 pm 04 November.

Judas Kiss – 2010, USA, J.T. Tepnapa – Director

This film is a surreal investigation (using a technique of parallel dimensions which doesn’t always work) into past decisions, past damages and the effects the experiences have had on one’s future.
A man, Zachary Wells (Charlie David) who is sent to judge a film competition encounters a young man named Danny Reyes (a brooding ambitious teen-angst Richard Harmon played to perfection) in whom he sees himself. This propels him to investigate his past and to come to terms with events that happened at this same time in his own youth. Zachary’s film, entitled Judas Kiss (the same title as Danny’s film) had won the award some 15 years previously under dubious circumstances. The kickback of this created guilt that persistently threaded through him, causing him to labour under a cloud, preventing him from enjoying the life he has. It seems clear to him that Danny is about to follow a path similar to his. He thus intervenes.

Underlined herein is the empowering aspect of how a psychological examination of one’s past, when done with integrity, is able heal the present. Central to this is to love and to forgive oneself for past errors of judgment. Youth has a way of not seeing clearly and thus has to pay the price for ill-considered decisions. In this instance ambition overrides consideration. The film thus shoulders a very brave task.

What is refreshing about this movie is that, while the story revolves around gay men, it takes place in a context where heterosexuals just don’t seem to feature. I find this a wonderful reversal of the accepted heterosexual films where homosexuality is non-existent. In a sense this is a mainstream film, with characters that happen to be gay. As such the film breaks new ground.

The subplot is very intriguing. With the devastating good looks of porn star Brent Corrigan (real name Sean Paul Lockhart) playing Chris as part of the love triangle between the ambitious Danny and the wealthy, seemingly shallow sexy Shane (Timo Descamps) there is enough cinematic interest to keep the viewer transfixed. The ensemble acting is flawless and is the primary satisfying energy that carries this film. Sadly, Sean Paul Lockhart is under utilized and is definitely moresome. Here he is sheer virgin innocence personified and when, via research, I discovered his background, you could have blown me away – no pun intended! No wonder he has won virtually every category possible for a porn star!

However I have to admit to being disappointed at the dénouement. The build-up does not satisfy and the shocking event pivotal to the disturbance at the dark and hidden core is insufficiently/too neatly dealt with. The psychology of the drama does not match the psychology of the reality. In spite of some good moments in the development of the plot, the script lacks psychological insight thus taking on more than it can chew.

Difficult Love: Documentary, 2011, South Africa,
Busi Kwesa & Zanele Muholi – Directors

There is so much positivity that shimmers through this documentary that makes it a MUST SEE for anybody even slightly sceptical about a person’s sexuality that is not framed by the so-called ‘norm’ of our society – and by anybody needing affirmation about beauty, art and the brave mind. The radiance is ever that much more luminous for the shocking intransigence that frames it.

What grips one immediately about this film is that it has been made with such love. There is not an iota of hatred, resentment or annoyance trapped in the celluloid/digital matrix of this offering: there is only a quest for awareness. The ‘visual activist’ Zanele Muholi round whom this documentary is based, is firmly grounded in herself, in her being, in her sexuality without confrontation or challenge: she simply is.

Zanele’s breathtakingly beautiful photographs remind one of the work of Robert Mapplethorpe in their clarity and crispness of line. This documentary covers aspects of her exhibition and her awareness campaign and support of lesbian issues. The comments made by the EX minister of Arts and Culture Lulu Xingwana that these photographs were ‘immoral’ beggars belief, yet unwittingly becomes a barometer of the various stratas of rejection that lesbians, gays, transgender and bisexual people face. There are some very articulate views from various commentators: journalist Gail Smith in particular. There are touching scenes with a white couple for whom Zanele’s mother worked as a domestic for some 42 years and who were responsible for Zanele’s education in a time of our historical past where the majority of black people were denied so many basic human rights. These scenes are without artefact or pretention.

The abhorrent and repugnant issue of corrective rape and the paternalistic and ill-informed views of both males and females of our society is the ever-present framework that hovers in the background like an ominous cloud. These intransigent conservative views need urgent addressing if we as a nation hope to walk proudly into the future. And the only way that is going to happen is through education. This film goes a long way in addressing this discrepancy and needs to be shown in schools, church halls: everywhere and anywhere.
There is a long long long road ahead.

Difficult Love recently won the Audience Award for Best Short Film at the Africa in the Picture film festival in Amsterdam, and will show at the Perlen Queer Film Festival in Hannover, Germany (17-20 October), the Side-by-Side film festival in St. Petersburg, Russia (21-25 October), and the Durban Lesbian and Gay Film Festival (30 October at 5 pm)

ZANELE has a solo show, accompanied by a new publication on her work, at the Casa Africa in Las Palmas, Canary Islands, which was opened on the 19 October and is running until 20 January 2012. She also has work on Face of Our Time, travelling to the University of Michigan Museum of Modern Art (12 November – 5 February); Lesbians Seeing Lesbians at the Leslie/Lohman Gallery in New York (until 22 October i.e. it closed this last Saturday); and Photography 1: Snapshots of a Generation at Wentrup Gallery, Berlin (18 November – 30 December).

House of Boys: 2009, Luxembourg, Jean-Claude Schlim – Director

For those of you who are fascinated by, and admire Klaus Nomi, the German opera singer who made a brief foray into popular music, you are in for a visual treat: running through this film are constant Nomi-esque inspirations, from lighting, make-up, to styling and mannerisms – particularly in the tour de force role of Udo Keir as the manipulative Grande Madame of the House – right down to the extraordinary photographic facial angles of the beautiful Frank – a remarkable performance form Layke Anderson also surely worthy of an Oscar!

The film opens with a series of events that leads to Frank leaving home and heading for Amsterdam where, once again, circumstance directs him to the door of the ‘House of Boys”. Here he gets taken in and begins to learn the ropes of survival as a stripper (and barman) in the all male drag-like cabaret parades, which forms an often startling and visual delight. A dark, Berlin-like pre Second World War desperation permeates the cheesy choreography and in the portrayal of the lust driven patrons. Direction is particularly sharp and crisp, and I especially liked cinematic attention to detail: the sequence where the chorus boys are seen walking on stage from the back wearing tatty rectangles of organza, yet on stage the effect being quite glamorous.

In the kitchen of the living abode, all the characters of the show congregate…usually at breakfast (or should that be lunch?) and there is some lively repartee….with the sex-changing Christopher (Michael N. Kuehl) very much on form. The ensemble cast is so well matched, the interplay so natural, that one begins to feel that the characters are in fact playing themselves.

The heady drug scenes and the promiscuousness of the pre Aids pandemic are well captured. On a wild night out (one of many) I particularly liked the rock performance of a devastatingly sexy lead singer singing: “Girls like you don’t get boys like me…” with nuance on the word ‘get’.

But Frank falls almost immediately in lust with the reluctant and supposedly straight Jake (Benn Northover). To Frank’s grief he discovers that Jake is selling his ass to a regular wealthy American patron. And herein lies the link to the ‘gay cancer’ as it was known then….pre 1985.

Inevitably Frank and Jake fall in love. True love. And it is truly believable. It is from here that Benn Northover’s performance as Jake goes up a notch.

It was not until the death of film star Rock Hudson that the extent of AIDS (Auto Immune Deficiency Syndrome) really hit home. Many less publicized artist’s had succumbed to the disease, Robert Mapplethorpe and Klaus Nomi being just two.

When it is discovered that Jake has contracted the disease, Frank’s love never wavers….if anything it gets stronger. The many memorable scenes of Lake, whose flesh is simply rotting on his body, are deeply moving. The fact that Frank escapes getting the infection (and Jakes ex-girlfriend) is one of the mysteries that surround this plague and the film goes some way into demonstrating just how promiscuous Frank had been!
A strong discussion point after the film is undoubtedly going to be about the drawn out representation of the growth of the disease in Lake. There are no reservations though that these scenes are crucial to the telling of this story as AIDS continues to be the world’s most rampant disease.

Living time is physically finite. It has a beginning and an end. And within that finiteness there are only so many things you can do with time. Time travels in waves, which while moving outwards also moves in a circular motion, and upwards. It is both linear and non linear. And within that, time has a series of focuses. It is within these phases of being focused that time has import. Outside of that, time has no meaning. Which is why, when those moments come, they should never be squandered. And herein lies the drama of life. Some people live all their lives outside of any need to focus. Some people struggle all their lives to gain that focus, only to squander it. Others spend all their lives avoiding that focus. And there are others still, who do all they can to live within that focus.

And yet, within all of this still, within all of us, time travels at different speeds.

It is perfectly clear that had Angela’s integrity been defective she would not have been able to put a toe through the front door of block A, Thokoza Women’s Hostel, let alone step into the intimate spaces of the inhabitants.

Expectedly, Angela faced opposition to this project from some women within the hostel. A show of sound solidarity in support of her at the opening of this exhibition from the residents bears testament to the cohesion and aspiration that, not only had been won, but has also been enshrined into this group effort. These are the women who are the rocks that are struck; these are the women who are unshakeably dignified in their being; these are the women whose independence is the light that gives them strength; these are the women who carry the honour of our nation with deep felt heart.

These are the women from whom all of us gain strength.
Clear and transparent intent: no hidden agenda.
If ever there was a high art to simplicity, these women embody it, and this exhibition expounds it.
The press release carries some potent statements that were no doubt made in consultation with the Thokoza women:

the most densely inhabited residential site in Durban.
women seeking independence from the pervading male dominated society…
beyond planning policies, beyond cultural traditions…

These are extremely cogent points to consider, given the current groundswell of pockets of a ‘regressive chauvinism’ rearing its ugly head and which persist in blighting the flowering of this nation. Do we have to remind ourselves how staunchly bigoted the Nationalist Party was as it wielded its outmoded agenda? Yet who would have thought for a moment in 1994, that such bigotry would still have been an issue to contend with in 2011? I am of course referring to issues like corrective rape and xenophobia….to mention but two.

This exhibition therefore exists on a number of contrasting levels, some of which are:

To highlight a haven away from interference.
To spotlight the strength and independence these women have developed in spite of enormous financial odds.
To call attention to the importance of residences such as this and the role they play in presenting affordable shelter to women seeking some level of independence within this chauvinist world.
To gain spiritual insight at the evolvement of survival mechanisms where pride and hard work has triumphed.

The women come from virtually all walks of life: students, domestic workers, nurses, peanut sellers, bead workers, seamstresses, dressmakers and vendors. They have undoubtedly been part of the struggle for freedom, where change for a better life has all but eluded them. In a sense the hostel IS their ‘better life’. Some women have inhabited and shared a single room within these walls for most of their lives.

The Thokoza Women’s Hostel was built in 1925 at a time when grand apartheid planning was probably little more than a scribble in someone’s warped mind. The fact that it is now a forgotten plot (literally and figuratively) in this richly maladjusting land has been poignantly accentuated by Angela’s sensitive and revealing collaboration. The detail of the truth is that the Hostel represents a vibrant transcendence of prison-like conditions into a thriving and independent ‘triumph of the will’. This should not be seen as a challenge to the pervading male chauvinism, but rather as an example of how the human spirit finds ways to survive under pervading repressive odds – be it financial, emotional, spiritual, or political. Quite clearly there seems to be a dire need for more of these hostels to be built and for the existing one’s to be upgraded without disturbing the life that depends on them.

Each photograph sensitively and movingly opens a vista into the lives of the women where the bottom photograph of each totem – a perpendicular line of insights representing a single room – depicts the door of each room. Not only does the door open to reveal glimpses of content that ramifies in our consciousness, but also opens to the trust these women have placed in the photographer. Angela has reciprocated by treading respectfully, carefully and consultatively, resulting in this enigmatic Zen-like exhibition.
In many ways all of these women are heroines.

The exhibition closes on 20th August. Do grab a chance to visit it! You will be astounded.

(I see a strong synchronicity between the current instillations of Angela Buckland and Lolette Smith’s Isomorphicintergrammar. I mentioned this fact to Angela and she said that she had been born deaf! I was astounded! This aside, both these women focus on deeply important issues in our society from very similar perspectives even though visually they are miles apart. Both are dealing with communication, both reveal pinnacles in the sensitive issue of understanding and of HEARING the context/content of our fellow (wo)man and both are embedded in a deep compassion, thus spotlighting LINKAGES within our common humanity.)

Choosing a particularly interesting yet decidedly apt title for her exhibition – Isomorphicintergrammar – Smith has bravely sailed where no one has dared to journey: the specifics of the interspace between communication and cognition.

Lolette is expertly poised to bring these issues to light – of the challenges faced by both hearing and deaf – who has spent 26 years raising her deaf daughter. Plus, for nine of these years Lolette ran her own art school (Edu-Art Highway Art College at Shongweni 2000 – 2009) thus adding a formidable level of experience to her knowledge of communication. Prior to that she taught for five years at Fulton School for the Deaf and has qualified at level 2 (the highest level) in Sign Language.

Applicably darkness has been chosen within which to present her light/gut/metal/perspex works making particular use of reflection within this matrix of transparency, illumination, spirituality, connective threads, understanding and chaos. Further, the painstaking process of assembling and creating these artworks is symbolic and illustrative of the meticulous attention to meaning and the rigourous comprehension – not to mention the love – involved in the process of ‘writing in the mind’ (education) of a person – be it deaf, blind (the use of Braille) or hearing.

As a starting point in preparing these artworks Lolette asked herself this question: “What would sound LOOK LIKE?” A person who is ‘profoundly deaf’ (cannot hear a thing, and for whom hearing aids would be a waste of time) faces a particularly difficult time in not only being communicated to, but in translating his/her own experiences, wants and needs, to the outside world. Even within the Deaf World, there is no set method of teaching communication to a deaf person. Having said that, the generally accepted modus is one of ‘total communication’ i.e. oral (speaking while signing), sign, visual stimulation in whatever available form, written (as in the use of the overhead projector to write down words/sentences) and in some instances, flash cards with words. There are so many variations/degrees of ‘deafness’ to which are attached so many different personalities, that a single method of communication has remained illusive. The method has to be adjusted to the specific needs of the individual. What is decidedly common though in the education of a deaf person is that nothing can be taken for granted.

It is within this matrix of challenges that Lolette’s artworks rise above the narrow confines of ‘differences’ while focusing on the specific ‘universal’ elements within communication and translating that into this visual feast of isomorphic crystals of frozen sound. Each of the seven pieces in this exhibition highlights various levels of interface which collectively throws light on the complex nature in the transmission of information. There are many ways in which a word/sentence can be expressed. There are equally as many ways for a sign to be expressed. The exhibition thus bridges this gap giving a visual elucidation which levels the playing fields in coming to terms with our common need for information. In this sense Lolette’s instillation paints a bigger picture – that sorely lacking manifestation within our ordinary lives – and throws enlightenment both literally and metaphorically into the darkness of our understanding of the nature of disclosure….be it through speech or sign language or Braille.

Hearing people take ‘incidental information’ completely for granted. Overhearing conversation, hearing something fall, change direction in a car after discussing a better route – to mention but a few – are all areas of darkness for a deaf person. For me, having taught at a deaf school for over three years, I see this as the single most exacting and taxing aspect of education pertaining to the deaf. It is here that one begins to realise how different one deaf learner is from the next. Much, if not all of their learning, has been dependent on the fortune of having enlightened parents, backed up by enlightened educators. This is of course, directly applicable to the hearing learner as well but on a far more demanding level.

From my reading of this exhibition, Lolette has visually interpreted the many questions and impaired territories – those that inevitably lead to misunderstandings, and those that lead to comprehension – with perspicacity. The strong visual element further features the need for the deaf to sharpen their eyesight to alert themselves to information as their most immediate means of independence.

The specifics of this exhibition – the individual within the collective – calls attention to the folly of recent policies pertaining to people with disabilities promulgated through the Education Department by our “understanding challenged” masters, that ‘one problem fits all’. Deafness, for example, is seen as being NO DIFFERENT to having spina bifida, being blind, or having any one of the array of human disabilities and are currently being accommodated within a single class. What is happening in the lower grades of deaf schools is a crime against humanity (and of disabilities in particular) and a blatant and systematically endorsed violation of basic human rights. While getting some things right….eventually…..the Education Department seems to lurch from folly to folly.

(At the opening of this exhibition, the curator of the KZNSA gallery simply could not pronounce the title of this exhibition and seemed to think that this was perfectly acceptable, thus making a particularly poignant point in the point of how some hearing people presume a conformity in communication that defines and defies their ability to disseminate information. Now put yourself in the position of a deaf person, and the situation is compounded. It is further sad, given all the advances in technology, that the correct DVD format for the DVD player to project the video element of this exhibition could not be put into place.)

THE BOW PROJECT

Reimagining Nofinishi Dywili’s traditional uhadi bow song performances.

I am not a traditionalist. Not by a long shot. This does not mean that I do not like tradition, it means that I feel tradition needs to transform if it is to survive. In fact tradition, as I see it, is about constantly updating the threads that link back to whatever gave rise to the original format. It is the way in which tradition transforms that creates culture. The way I see it, tradition is a springboard not a framework.

In this sense the Bow Project investigates the traditional process through which these Xhosa songs have survived and discovers that, purely on interest where these songs have been picked up by the youth within the immediate surrounds, they rely on a verbal transmission only. In so doing, the BOW PROJECT breathes new life into both an appraisal and an awareness of the uhadi bow and to Nofinishi’s songs, and to the ongoing development and experimentation in the classical music domain.

It is a well known fact that apartheid stifled growth and held the modern world at bay through the draconian laws of separate development and suppression. Spiritually whites suffered most. Yet most whites never ever realised it. However, this stagnation allowed traditional norms to also freeze, while seemingly giving them strength to consolidate their grounding. With the relatively sudden collapse of apartheid, tradition has been challenged precipitously to get its act together, or face extinction. This has created enormous tensions within the largely rural sectors of this country creating fear and foreboding. Cells phones, internet and modern technology are now available to everyone. Two years ago there was a huge furore over the traditional hand slaying of a bull (Ukushwama ritual) where Animal Rights Africa (ARA) failed in a court procedure to have this tradition transformed or scrapped. The shutters simply came crashing down and the white man was seen to be meddling in the internal affairs of tribesmen. “It is a very sad day for dignity, respect and compassion,” said Ms Pikover representative for ARA somewhat forlornly. The fact that this tradition had already been transformed from the killing of the king to the killing of a bull as a symbolic gesture, rather than kill the king himself, seemed to escape the ‘traditionalists’.

It is fortuitous then that The Bow Project began at a very crucial time in the transformation and focus on cultural diversity in South Africa – around 2002. Most critical to this is the fact that the performances of Nofinishi Dywili were originally recorded in the field by professor Dave Dargie during his research in the 1980s and 1990s. Thus these recordings form the authentic springboard for the reimaginings for string quartet.

It appears, somewhat synchronistically, as if this Bow Project has given rise to an historical investigation into the roots of the violin. A Bow Project (2004) was launched specifically with this agenda in mind by the SA born violinist Daniel Hope. Hope, who currently lives in Vienna, has been described as the “most exciting British string player since Jacqueline du Pré”. Through this research with Madosini and the uhadi bow as source, it has been suggested that the uhadi bow may even have been the originator of the bow and arrow! Hopes investigations have taken him across the globe and the project has become a multi-platform search for the roots of the ‘most human of instruments’.

CD TWO is devoted entirely to the recordings of Dywili which correspond sequentially to the reimaginings of these performances on CD ONE. There is a distinguished array of composers represented: Mokale Koapeng – Komeng; Martin Scherzinger – My Friend the Ugly One; Robert Fokkens – Libalel’ilanga (The Sun is Scorching the Earth); Julia Raynham – latshon’ilanga to mention but a few. The CD ends with Kaganof’s Anahat – a 7:37 minute remixing of Michael Blake’s String Quartet No. 3.

One can therefore listen to Dywili’s songs uninterruptedly and allow oneself the savour of journeying through the expansive rural Eastern Cape landscape so beautifully captured on the CD cover. To my Western/African ears I feel that Inxembuli (2002 version) is the more instantly accessible track of the Nofinishi recordings, all of which undoubtedly represent the heart and soul of the Eastern Cape. On this track however Nofinishi’s yearning vocal tone becomes an instrument of mesmerisingly tantric proportions in unison with the mantra of the uhadi bow.

It will sink into your bones.

It will colour your skin.

One could also download the CD onto one’s computer and then open a new window in the music programme (mine is iTunes) and then juxtapose the imagined version with the inspirational version and click on repeat. This forms, with recurrent listening, a fascinating format from which to appreciate the Bow Project’s deeper intentions! And, having witnessed the Bow Project performance at Howard College Theatre in 2009, I carry with me a delightful visual of Mantombi Matotiyana’s own renditions and her enthusiastic response to these composers’ reimaginings.

It is thus that Michael Blake String Quartet No. 3 (Nofinishi) verves the air immediately with the pluck of the viola and cello, cut through with the ‘string’ of the violins. Blake thus extracts (deconstructs) and then leaps with his inspiration flying through and interfacing with the Nofinishi arrhythymic rhythm. This resonates with my earlier musings that culture is a springboard, rather than a framework. This immediate statement clears the air for the rightful ideating of the Bow Project mandate. What Blake has achieved in my intuitive sense, is a relationship between the structure of the uhadi bow and the ‘evolved’ configuration of the classical quartet instruments. Each instrument is therefore enhanced in its individuality as well as it’s collective function.

With Anahat (a primordial sound within the body, signifying spiritual growth, especially associated with awakening of Kundalini – a sound that is created without collision or impact) – Kaganof has eliminated the orbit and crossflow of Blake’s imagining, and transformed his String Quartet No.3 into an earthy/earthly cello of a grounding turf resonance with strings of mood and essence. He thus explores the silence and space that sound creates and its imbued correspondence with spiritual growth.

The Bow Project has succeeded in creating a win win situation for diverse cultures across the Eastern Cape to the shores of Norway.

Get the CD, support this endeavour, and reap the rewards.

The project has been dedicated to the memory of Nofinishi Dywili (d.2002)

Yes! All my senses and intuitive radars were in harmony: the sum of my cells focused in anticipation of Jaspar Lepak in performance @ the Bluestocking. This Kloof performance space was surrounded by a hypothermic Hillcrest winter (very brrrr) but soon started warming up as the audience packed into the venue to participate in the Jaspar Lepak show.

Via pre order, hearty vegetarian dishes *see menu below* were prepared by Krist A and Shawn Wehsling. The event is expertly managed by Narene Stevens.

In performance with Jaspar were an array of distinguished backing musicians: Rachel van Scoy (special guest harmonist all the way out from Minneapolis), Kale Lepak (accordion), Bryan Eaton (banjo), and Richard Haslop (dobro and mandolin).

Perhaps being the eldest of five children (all girls) shows its advantage where Jaspar is adept at sharing her stage space and stepping back from the spotlight. Rachel van Scoy who has performed on Jaspar’s most recent CD’s gave beautiful a cappella renditions of two cover songs that displayed her vocal range to excellent effect.

Jaspar’s narrative driven songs are filled with wisdom; her lyrics constantly search for the bigger picture and her poetry turns its gaze into concerned arenas. This infected an expansive theme into the crisp night air. The appreciative audience were warmed and energised. Most of her repertoire for the evening was taken from her latest CD: Send Me Home.

Particularly striking for me was Jaspar’s solo piece about mothers and woman abuse: “I know a woman” – an earlier composition and not on her latest CD. Here, her composed strength shone through and gave a gifted flair to her stature as she began to feel the awe-struck effect her lyrics were having on the enrapt listeners. The pen certainly is mightier than the sword even if just for the fact that the pen does not kill, but enlightens! And with enlightenment, awareness is effected eternally. It seems to me that Jaspar is intuitively dovetailing with a growing new wave of feminine inventiveness where learning through keen observation, taking stock – rather than judging – creates a gap as a positive way forward in this ever male dominated world. As such one gains inspiration and courage to deal with life’s hurdles.

This delightful evening ended off with the encore: “Leaving the Country”.

There are still a few Jaspar Lepak gigs lined up before she departs! Watch the press (and Facebook) for details.

It IS important to book EARLY as many people had to be turned away.

The Bluestocking menu: 17:06:11

Vegetable Lasagne
Potato, Butternut & Cheese Bake
Peppers, Sweet Potato & Chickpea Curry with brown rice and sambals *Vegan*

Our magik* ingredients come from the garden, thus completely home grown thanks to Narene and Shawn (perma-culture enthusiasts) who have cultivated a variety of fresh herbs and veggies which go into our dishes. The magik from the garden flows into all Bluestocking meals making every evening here a truly unique and sublime experience…..

this review first published on helgé’s blog

If Nate himself is a matrix of cross-referencing wonders with at times a naive matter-of-factness, his debut CD ‘The Wild Land’ is a mesmerising distillation alchemized into the sum total of brilliance. When his muse speaks, we listen…..and wander with him through enchanted forests……entwined with loose vines….glinting sunlight and a rich dark undergrowth…where we encounter PAN (the god of experience) in all his wonderpotent glory….

The astonishingly opulent guitar tone (a Nathan Maingard original – Nate learned guitar-making from his father) matched by a clarity of pitch with an alluring melodic voice in shamanic harmony (the voice and the guitar are one – so much so that at times it seems as if there is a backing homogeneous male vocalist echoing words) rang a unique resonance within me from the moment this CD made aural contact. It is always interesting when the intended raison of a song expands beyond its original framework and infuses a wider territory! So, while the songs are deeply personal, they transcend and connect with a listener tired of the glib boy meets girl/boy loses girl phrasing of current popular fare. The driving acoustic rhythms weave through the lyrics and travel an expanse that resonates with the crux of the matter conjoining emotion and intellect. The colours, moods, memories, visions that thus emanate throughout this story/concept motivated album inspires a sense of healing and crusades for a return to our intuitive selves: the innocence of the heart matched by the seduction of experience….yet with discernment….and with caution. While this may seem like a contradiction in terms on a surface level, when one is in that deeply felt intuitive (artistic) space, it all makes absolute sense.

And sense it makes!

Each track is a carefully selected gentle-gem-offering of immense beauty discovered within the thicket of…..

The Wild Land –

the track that gives the album its name – deals with the secret landscape where the river of sexuality/sensuality is obligated to course its way through the psyche without hinderance….or face the wrath of the inner voice that speaks no lie. This very important flow is not that easy to attain, yet where the hurdles serve to strengthen resolve and the bottling up of sexuality is done at one’s peril. This is the domain of that which is wild…….tread gently through it least you arouse the displeasure of these guardians of our underworld.

The plea is not to mishandle the serene (yet potentially chaotic) space that respects a surrender to our innermost gifts in our quest to find our authentic self.

Just Like You:

This song is concerned with a search for personal identity which has come about through a lack of being able to live up to the expected norms of one’s peers/society/parents/religion. There is neither anger nor blame: just compassion for oneself. Yet in so finding, discovering compassion for others which requires reciprocation:

“if no one is listening
then this all seems absurd”

This is, after all, a deeply felt anticipated yet unwritten human pact which we implicitly make with our fellow man. This is further demonstrated in the final punch line:

“I hold onto my love, just like you.”

…..where the playing fields are gently levelled.

Fire:

two embers in the fire faced one another
said to the other: What are you doing here?
although I question carefully your presence
I am so grateful for your company in the fire

until we’re gone gone gone gone gone
gone gone gone gone
gone gone gone gone gone
when the flames have all burned down
what will remain?

The birth/death/rebirth cycle so beautifully and poignantly expressed in a total acceptance of the heat of experience yet posing a mysterious philosophical question: “what will remain?” The answer to this seems to rest with the quality of the experience. The phoenix undoubtedly springs to mind too, for is it not from/through the ashes that the new is born? Each experience is savoured, considered…..it forms a vital ingredient in our transformation…..of that which we are becoming..

My favourite track is undoubtedly

I Will Devour:

in the soft moist loam
in the undergrowth
where all creatures know
what that seed is worth..
i will lay me down
and i will sink in to
just like the seed
i will feed the new

…..sheer genius!

And performed to mesmerising perfection at the Bean Green Roastery, in Durban, where I had the delighted pleasure of also filming it! I am also now the proud owner of a signed ‘The Wild Land’ CD.

Yes!

They say that the ‘indie folk’ scene is exploding in Cape Town. If this album is an example of that, then folk music in this country has finally come of age. This has to be the most remarkable folk debut album in many a decade, and in my experience, in South Africa – ever! It draws through its many folk influences and turns out a product that is modern, inspired, fresh and immediate. Nate exhibits an innate sense of drama and timing in his distinctive musical style. He treads…and plays……where few have dared to go….and through his creative process fearlessly faces his beasts inviting them into obeisance.

Buy “The Wild Land” now. Immediately! You will never regret it.

http://natemaingard.com/album/the-wild-land