Thamsanqa Mnyele

Bongiwe Dhlomo's exhibition at the Botswana National Museum and Art Gallery rought to my mind the fact that there is a new art growing in South Africa. It is an historical event in our art that the social climate has developed to the point where it has given birth to a woman artist who can look so directly at the situation around her. Surrounded by Bongiwe's work, I could not help but go back and reflect on the growth of art within South African society.

How can any graphic artist make public observations and suggestions on the state of the visual arts at home? The act of doing so carries with it the risk of implicating that artist as spokesman; an idealistic, perhaps arrogant exercise. On the other hand I find it equally dangerous that we should carry on the worn out culture of resignation when major decisions are made over our work, indeed over our lives as a people. While this paper is far from representative, nevertheless I think it is necessary that certain things be said by the visual artist in South Africa. Failure to do so implies grave ignorance of those things, which make or, possibly, even break our lives as a people.

I have often been asked why, in South Africa, when whole communities are threatened with extinction by a soaring cost of living; when whole communities suffer dismemberment through forced removals; when the majority of the people are declared foreigners in the country of their birth; when people are crudely and ruthlessly suppressed through rushed pieces of legislation, detentions, the massacre of workers and students; when, therefore, whole communities resist this genocide through organising themselves into civic organisations, trade unions, women's and Student organisations, there has been disturbingly little visual art output in the country and abroad which is organically related to these community efforts. Nor has there been a groundedly political voice from this quarter, let alone a broad art movement with an obvious national commitment. Such is the extent of the concern.

It is my contention that the prolonged strife and struggle that manifest themselves in cultural work, namely in the visual arts, can be traced to the root of the national political situation. Any understanding of the development of visual imagery must, therefore, recognise this. That principle which governs traditional art is still valid today; i.e. that art must have a function: a walking song, the sculpture that serves as a chair, the majestically decorated houses of the Ndebele-speaking. communities. The subject matter is drawn from the actual activities of the people in their living surroundings, the source and supreme function of art. We may go further and say that the actual act of creating the visual imagery is informed by the community and nourished by it, consciously or unconsciously, and that it is the community which will or must act as audience. Again we can take the risk of stating that the skills of execution, the intimate workings of individual imagination etc. cannot exist outside human experience, in this case the community. In contrast the development or underdevelopment of visual art in South Africa in this century, -was shaped by the factors that wield political power. With effective employment of capital and other means such as high technology and skilled manpower, the state of the arts was determined and controlled. Art galleries, churches and schools all formed and added the processing machinery, the finishing touch.

Most indigenous artists in South Africa seldom managed to acquire formal education beyond secondary school. And to compound the problem no formal educational institution ran an arts course, at least for Africans; hence the responsibility was taken over by foreign mission stations. It is important to point this out in order to understand the workings of the system at an intellectual level. Fort Hare only introduced the art curriculum in the middle seventies, and the course is at degree level. This means that even a highly talented person cannot be enrolled without a matriculation certificate. I am not sure if the situation has changed. Other schools like Endaleni in Natal, offer a course but don't go beyond the level of crafts and handwork as teaching aids. Mission art schools offered courses but confined themselves to the various art techniques and European art history thus carefully avoiding state confrontation.

The art that sprang from this experience was seldom carried beyond biblical themes, African landscapes, wildlife, myths and legends. No exploration of the immediate social political phenomena. Where an artist dared attempt to reflect a political theme, treatment of this issue lacked depth of involvement. The work seemed rushed and lacked conviction. Sometimes th is type of work seemed too self-involved and was devoid of that outward thrust; it lacked an upright posture, an elevated head, a firm neck, and a tight muscle. To put it another way: the images were totally abstracted without an obvious course, distortion of the limbs was acute. The subject matter was mystified and to this extent the work lost integration with real things in our life; the work sagged under a heavy veil of mysteriousness. Perhaps this is the essence of the work. The disappointing fact about this approach to art is that the picture is deprived of that essential dynamic element: immediacy of communication with the community, the natural makers and consumers of art. Perhaps the problem lies in the fact that the artist had begun to look for a different audience, in the galleries and the critics who asked for 'strange African art'. It is at this stage that the political motives (or clarity) of the artist are brought into sharp focus: his class interests as opposed to those of the people. As Dikobe wa Mogale once said, 'Art is not neutral.'

The elements of distortion, mystification, abstraction, are not negative in themselves and can be put to positive and effective use, as in the indigenous idiom. This calls for maturity of temperament, clearer social awareness and skill of the working hand. In my opinion we have not been successful enough in maintaining control over any of these facilities. The same goes for the elements of anguish, pity, shock and surprise. With developments at home today, the country is obviously in grave need of a new calibre of cultural worker, notably in the visual arts and song. The kind we have now has yielded too willingly to the dictates of negation. We must now create this new man and woman whose visuals and songs will be informed by the most pressing needs and demands of their time, place and circumstances: they ought to be articulate but simple so as to be accountable to their work and with clear political insight, a skilled hand and firm revolutionary sentiment. With the absence of this calibre of workers amongst us, is it any wonder then that no collective spirit, no single mindedness of purpose, no solid, patriotic, consistent art movement has taken root among our struggling people? Is it any wonder that no union of the visual arts is forthcoming in our country? Is there any wonder that the exhibition of committed art that was being organised by Staffrider failed to take place due to the absence of work in this direction (see Staffrider, Vol. 3, No. 4 )? Is it any wonder that the art collective in Katlehong received Piet Koomhof and other government ministers as guests during their exhibitions? Finally and most crucially, is it any wonder that the house of the leader of the art collective was petrol-bombed by the disgusted community of Katlehong (see Rand Daily Mail Extra, 5 October, 1984 )? But there have been exceptions, those workers who suffer constant state harassment, detention, exile, death, and madness. These artists deserve our political support and respect. I must take the risk and include names at random: Dikobe wa Mogale, Gavin Jantjies, Lionel Davis, Peter Clarke, Gamakhulu Diniso, Manfred Zylla, Bongiwe Dhlomo and others. The ones listed here vary broadly both in terms of community involvement in their work and general political activity. But disturbingly, it is idiosyncratic of our artists that when they develop political consciousness they automatically desert the art profession for ' something more practical and real', as one put it.

This analysis is filled with shortcomings, but it is understandable. Dikobe, Gavin and Bongi, like all artists today, have been taught to work too much as individuals, away from the collective. This must be resisted. The system of fragmentation, the tendency towards individualism, exclusiveness and isolation is as moribund as that of divide and rule. In contrast, there are just the beginnings of a new approach to art growing at home. As the grassroots organisations gain in strength, some artists are finding a new home for themselves and their work. Mpumalanga Arts Project, Community Arts Project, the Johannesburg Silkscreen Workshop etc. We are beginning to see banners, posters, and graphics in the trade unions, civics, women's organisations, the UDP. These graphics are the birth of a new culture, conceived in the hopes and aspirations of the community, nourished by the people's organisation. Dikobe was one of the first graphic artists to actively respond to the demands of his country, and in taking appropriate action met with the heavy hand of the state. Dikobe was sentenced to ten years' imprisonment for military attempts to overthrow the racist state.

Before his arrest he stated with clarity and typical articulateness the shortcomings of the present state of art and appealed for the collective creation of the new cadre. Allow me to express my respect for this man. Allow me to express revolutionary anger at those whose racist deeds are depicted in the work of Bongiwe: forced removals, insensitive resettlement. We hail the fighting communities that inspire Bongiwe's work.

To Bongi herself I must point out though that her pictures need more concentrated working. They deal with serious issues that affect our lives, but this is done somewhat half-heartedly, for example the rubbish bin and the figure next to it (an old woman?) are mere shapes, dead images. There's no feeling of corrugated iron, no wetness, no stench. The work seems extremely hurried and can easily degenerate into the realm of trite and defeatist 'township art'.

But make no mistake, Bongiwe is a committed artist. In South Africa, where women are doubly oppressed, it takes courage for a female visual artist to emerge and assert herself as she has done. There are certainly ways of improving our work, of destroying the negative image. We must change our understanding of the profession. We must read, study, travel, and practise the profession in community development projects. We must lean to open ourselves to popular opinion, take criticism and do practical organisational work within the arts. We must convene and attend seminars and workshops whether or not they are within our profession. These are the things which inform and nourish our artwork. Our destinies are determined by them. It is our duty: to make available our services as cultural workers as well as members of the community of the liberation struggle.

Finally we must consider adopting the graphic technique in our work its scope and elasticity in regard to the particular nature and size of developments in our country. We should also utilise fully the scie ntific means available to develop the graphic image of our country. se include the camera, printing press etc. These have to be conquered tamed to suit our needs and social climate.

Aparth eid is huge and ruthless. We must employ equally huge graphic to complement the efforts of our people; work big in size and organise around unsentimental principles. There can never be tic freedom or freedom of expression for a people in captivity. This Knigh on which to base our cultural work and organisation. To create paintings and songs of revolutionary optimism and unity between the old; the young, men and women and whole communities. us dip our brushes into bold colours of painting and confidence and daub our walls with murals, posters, writings, cartoons, all soaked in conscious language of revolution. We must restore dignity to the arts. The writing is on the wall.

The thoughts in this paper are hurried. The problems that beset my y may deem this the green idealism of a slave. But to reach out grasp this vision is our task and our joy, both as cultural workers members of our communities.

Forward with the creation of a new calibre of cultural worker! This call made at the gathering on Art Towards Social Development and Culture and Resistance in Botswana in 1982. And in the areas where the people have become actively critical of their enemies, such as in the Vaal, Soweto, Katlehong, Tembisa, Grahamstown, the demands made upon us as cultural workers cannot be more clear. Our people have taken to the streets in the greatest possible expression of hope and anger, of conscious understanding and unflinching commitment. This calls for what all progressive art should be -- realist, incisive, and honest.

References

• Oliphant, A.W & Vladislav, I.(eds) 1988. Ten Years of Staffrider 1978 - 1988. vol. 7 no. 3 and 4 1988. Ravan Press. .p297
back to top