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  • Your artistic journey began in your home province of the Eastern Cape, known for the mining industry. I have two questions in this regard. 
     

    • Q: In what way has the Eastern Cape shaped your subject matter? 

     
    A: People from the Eastern Cape had to move from the province to become part of the labour force throughout the country - such as Cape Town, Johannesburg and places like Kwa-Zulu Natal and Mpumalunga. Most of these people who moved are working as mineworkers. The Eastern Cape is looked at as an undeveloped province in South Africa, because I believe that the amount of people moving from the province to other spaces  to serve in the labour force has meant that other provinces develop instead of the Eastern Cape. I feel like my work is inspired by this, because I am one of those people who had to move from the province to Johannesburg to actually be able to practise as an artist. My work is influenced by the move,  the shift, the search, and solidarity. I believe that when you move away from home, you need a little bit of home, away from home, such as brothers and sisters who are living together and who have one goal or one dream. 
    • Q: Would you say that your work incorporates the experiences of mineworkers?
     
    A: When I moved to Johannesburg in 2012, the Marikana massacre happened. At the time, I was in a small flat and I saw a glimpse of television with images of people running and I heard gunshots and in my mind, I thought this must be an archive. I worked in a museum before and so I am really interested in archives and history, because they fascinate me. However, I realised the event was currently happening and without thinking, I grabbed a sketch pad and I started sketching about the incident before I could even read more about it. From there a series of the Marikana incident came from my studio and I started painting miners filling up space for quite a while, so for the time I have been practising as an artist, mineworkers have been part of my practice as a subject. Unfortunately, most of the men who were killed were from the Eastern Cape and so the story felt closer to me. I have been thinking about movement and how these men died for money, thinking that they should be developing the province. 
     
    Q: You have been dubbed as a post-war artist. Can you please explain why that is? 
     
    A: I am not sure, but I think it might be because of my Marikana series. I was born during apartheid and I experienced the transition to democracy. Artists like Fani, who did work around that time, and the work I am doing might actually be related. I think my theme is still tied to the past. During apartheid there was not like a physical war but there was a lot of conflict and as someone who was born during apartheid, and it ended when I was a teenager, I still carry some of those memories with me. I can make an example, during apartheid, Black people were not allowed to enter certain spaces, but now we are allowed to enter but our minds are not sure if we can, so there is conflict within you as a person. I think that automatically shows in my work because I am expressing my experience. 
     
    Q: A prominent theme in your work is power dynamics in hierarchical societies. Would that be a reference to the (historical) class struggle of the proletariat (working class)  and the elite (owners of the means of production) that is quite intrinsic to capitalism and industrialisation? 
     
    A: I would say yes, because When I think of industrialisation, for instance, there was bringing in workers to do labour. If a capitalist has an idea to do something, they want to benefit from that idea in terms of profits, because it is their idea. Then they think bringing in machines will get things done quicker but they need humans to execute the idea. But at the end of the day there is not enough fairness in terms of who benefits from the idea. If you consider the Marikana incident, these mineworkers were fighting for R12500, so before that they were even being paid less, but if you think about the work they are doing, it is quite strenuous and dangerous.
     
    I am depicting struggles of people moving from the point of need and the transition of trying to get to a place or achieve something. My work centres on the people, movement, searching and the labour force. It might be a bit biassed that I am on the side of the people, but I am just drawn to it when I work. This is what I want to express. There are other issues, but I feel it is not my duty. My duty is to express my experiences, how I feel and my observations. My work is there to bring awareness and to strike debate for people to come up with solutions. 

    Your work explores the transition to democracy in South Africa. I have two questions in this regard. 
     
    • Q: What does  freedom, in a socio-political context, mean to you?
     
    A: I have an idea of what freedom should be. The first thing that comes to mind is equality, in terms of social structures and how people live. Then there is also the freedom in people not being suppressed because of how they think or how they look or what they do. I think freedom comes with a lot of  responsibilities - if you are too free, you might step on someone’s toes, but there is also a sense of being free in not being denied your natural (human) rights. So, I think freedom is such a complex concept to define.  
     
    • Q: What are your thoughts on democracy, particularly as it manifests  in South Africa?
     
    A: I don't know if we as South Africans really understand what democracy means and what it allows. I think we abuse the word, in terms of daily behaviour, for example. Now that there is democracy we think that now we are free and the government must provide social services. Yes I agree that the government is not doing what they can actually do and should do, in terms of changing the lives of South Africans, but I also feel that there is a dependency syndrome whereby we waste time waiting and believing that someone needs to come rescue us, instead of using what is available to us. For example, during apartheid, the streets and houses were taken care of by the people, not the government. Nowadays people just sit and complain that there are no jobs, but if you look around, there is much to be done. We were told we are free, and that we will be provided with houses and healthcare, so people have gotten into a space where they no longer do things for themselves. That is why I think there should have been ways to educate people about what democracy is about. 

    Q: Your paintings suggest moments of protest and social conflict. Is that interpretation correct and if so, can you please share your thoughts on the historical importance of protest art?
     
    A: Protesting social conflict, to me, is not only about protesting the government or the employer. You can protest your social state or the way you perceive things  - so as a community you can protest your own ideas. We are still allowed to protest against ourselves. The conflicts are not only ‘us versus them’, the conflicts also lie within us, because we are still trying to balance who we are with what is out there in the outside world and our place in society. So the protest elements in my work are not necessarily physical. The experience of doing my work has gotten me to ask questions about who I am, what I stand for, why I am on Earth and when that happens, you have to go within. I feel at some point that as humans it is up to us to do better through doing a little in our own corners.