Gallery district as meta-art evolving organism.

The gallery district is a simple anomaly, it is a number of galleries seemingly arbitrarily placed, but in conjunction with each other. On the Eastern side the galleries are boundaried by a sex shop up North and a petrol garage down South.

There is also a monstrosity of a building with only 3 digits offering any kind of identification. 132 is like some sort of code but the architecture is one of total domination of the area and there seemed to be no particular thought involved in the design, simply a rush to get it finished and stake some sort of corporate claim to a part of Parkwood.

The block of flats above this strip of the gallery district dates back maybe to the 40’s and is a different architectural animal altogether, raising an important contrast against 132. On the corner there is an overload of advertising boards.

Neatly packaged across the road is the Goodman Gallery. One that has paid its dues and become quite an established part of the furniture. It also takes itself a little bit more seriously than its counterparts across the way, maybe a bit too seriously.

However, the recent exhibition by David Goldblatt held there was an “I was there” occasion. Resolution Gallery opposite has a welcoming air about it and they don’t mind animals and kids.

I also first saw the pic by Sally Shorkend taken of David Goldblatt and enlarged and highlighted and enlightened by Ricardo Fornoni. An amazing picture, the subject of the Odyssey of a portrait and one that I ventured back to look at many times, also snapping pics of it from the pavement outside complete with diverse reflections.

Artspace has a minimalist design and layout with exhibits placed cautiously so as not to impinge or abstract on each other. This is an extreme benefit for the avid gallery groupie as interference from neighbouring exhibits can cause serious anguish.

Warren Siebrets hasn’t always been open when I’ve been in the district but their layout is also uncluttered and very conducive to focusing on the exhibits themselves and not the gallery, which should simply a forum or a portal for viewing purposes. Great space for some naked reflections.

What strikes the observant loiterer about the area is its possibilities as a piece of art in its own right. The juxtaposition of sexshop and galleries, the crazy billboard sign, the traffic that never quite slows down and the general feel of being in a cosmopolitan environment with hawkers talking different languages and minibus taxis being stereotypically aggressive and fast, this moment in time is an evolving organism, a kaleidoscopic artwork that is never quite the same.

Who knows how to make love stay?

This is a blog I wrote approx. two years ago and the sentiments still resonate, maybe more so.

Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not.
Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning or end.
Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of the bed and Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.
There is only one serious question and that is: Who knows how to make love stay?

These quotes from a book that I reread over the weekend will have enabled the more intrepid reader to identify the title but more of that later. Imagine a book that investigates, the question, in depth over history, philosophy, cosmology, mythology, symbology as well as female sexuality just exactly: Who knows how to make love stay?

There are some of the greatest one liners in English literature as well as a heroine of sorts and an anti-hero. There are allusions to all kinds of possible answers and even some possible solutions to the ultimate question but the book actually revolves around the images and imagination of one of the greatest writers of the last quarter of the twentieth century.

“Outlaws are not members of society. However, they may be important to society. Poets remember our dreams, outlaws act them out.”

“Those who shun the whimsy of things will experience rigor mortis before death.”

” …most lovers don’t work at it hard enough, or with enough imagination or generosity, ..”

“When you put the blame on society, then you end up turning to society for the solution.”

“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won’t adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honour and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question. The words “make” and “stay” become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free.”

“Love lasts. It’s lust that moves out on us when we’re not looking, it’s lust that always skips town - and love without lust just isn’t enough.”

I haven’t told you yet about the Camel box or Choice, but enough for now. To end off, a quote before the prologue from Erica Jong herself. “Here should be a picture of my favourite apple. It is also a nude & bottle. It is also a landscape. There are no such things as still lifes.”

The author was described by a British critic as writing like Dolly Parton looks.

Of course it is Tom Robbins and STILL LIFE WITH WOODPECKER. It is a metaphysical ramble, joyride and bungee. Go out and buy it, now.

Some reflections in Parkhurst and Parktown.

Novelties and sundries.

This is me feeling a bit pensive. This is just how easy it is to sell beer.

Outside looking in. “Barred” from an Artspace exhibition in the gallery district.

Late one evening while taking a break from another gallery exhibition I snapped these photos of Artspace, fascinated by the lighting. The blue tinge and the flash in the window highlights a mesmerising exhibition waiting just on the other side of the bars. The colour almost suggests an exhibition in cold storage, waiting for daylight so that it may come to life again.

New Peter Gabriel album overshadowed by tribute to Steve Biko.

 

Peter Gabriel has released a self titled album with an interesting mix of the bizarre, the crazy and some mundane moments just to keep us all sane.

 

The tracks as per usual are littered with curious melodies and some echoing accompaniments.

 

The participants reads like a who’s who of current boundary shifting music. Phil Collins, Paul Weller, Robert Fripp, Dick Morrissey and Kate Bush all make an appearance or two.

 

Of the tracks, the stand out ones are ‘Games without Frontiers’ complete with thought provoking and thoughtless lyrics, great melody and sing song chorus, destined for singalongs the world over and maybe inclusion in some top 10’s.

 

But by far the most intriguing track is the last one entitled ‘BIKO’ after the anti apartheid activist who died violently while in police custody in South Africa.

 

BIKO

 

September ‘77

Port Elizabeth weather fine

It was business as usual

In Police Room 619

 

Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko

Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko

Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja

  - the man is dead

 

When I try to sleep at night

I can only dream in red

The outside world is black and white

With only one colour dead

 

Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko

Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko

Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja

-         the man is dead

 

You can blow out a candle

but you can’t blow out a fire

once the flame begins to catch

the wind will blow it higher

Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko

Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko

Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja

-         the man is dead

 

and the eyes of the world are

watching now     watching now

 

The lyrics are haunting and the song is too, it would be fun to be able to see where it has moved to in a couple of decades time.

 

Peter Gabriel released by CHARISMA RECORDS LTD 1980.

 

Steve Biko writes what he likes.

 

‘I write what I like’, a recently published collection of the writings of Steve Biko, has an arrogant ring to it but the reader who perseveres through to the end will come out of the experience enriched with a deeper understanding of what the South African political landscape is made up of.

 

Steve Biko not only has the background and intimate knowledge of black culture and politics but also has a delightful way with the words of the English language, not his mother tongue.. 

 

It is especially relevant to the white reader intent on grasping where fellow citizens of South Africa come from and what their aims are as far as a possible future democratically elected government is concerned.

 

Biko stresses cultural differences in his justification for forming the South African Students Organisation (SASO) in 1969 which was seen by some as a breakaway from NUSAS (National Union of South African Students).

 

The idea of black people making decisions about their political strategy within or without the apartheid segregation monolith was anathema to many white liberals happy to make decisions on behalf of blacks who weren’t represented in official organisations.

 

The formation of SASO and other developments were a contributory factor in NUSAS moving towards the right in the 70’s and this went some way to vindicating the decision by Biko and his comrades to form SASO.

 

A theme running right through the book of short essays and articles is the silencing of effective protest by black people against apartheid through the National Party government defining the parameters within which they may debate. This occurred with colleges specifically limited to certain groupings with Fort Hare for the Xhosa and others for Zulu, Sotho and Indians.

 

Biko maintains that acquiescing and playing the game of limited debate within government demarcated parameters is one destined to embarrassment and failure.

 

The book focuses almost exclusively on student politics and may not be accessible to the non student reader. However, the deeper ramifications of what Biko has to say about Black Consciousness has relevance for anybody living in South Africa at this moment in time.

 

In speaking about African culture, Biko says, “Westerners have in many occasions been surprised at the capacity we have for talking to each other – not for the sake of arriving at a particular conclusion but merely to enjoy the communication for its own sake.”

 

“These are things never done in the westerner’s culture. A visitor to someone’s house, with the exception of friends, is always met with the question ‘what can I do for you’? This attitude to see people not as themselves but as agents for some particular function either to one’s disadvantage or advantage is foreign to us. We are not a suspicious race.”

 

This book raises deep issues and asks serious questions of the people of South Africa, both black and white. It would be interesting to be able to see what becomes of this book in thirty years time.

 

Published by the Bowerdean Press, London 1978.

 

Dylan simply paints and exhibits, seemingly oblivious to the art debate.

Bob Dylan is having an art exhibition. Some of his paintings, on show to the public have reaped interesting reactions, not all of it defamatory. Dylan is an undoubted musical genius but attempting to move seamlessly between genres and expecting anything but calamity could be naive.

The question that springs to mind is whether Dylan is simply a dilettante or truly believes he has something to add in the genre of painting, maybe managing serruptitiously thereby to add the accolade of artist in an entirely new genre.

By exhibiting his paintings Dylan has created a conundrum, both for music fans as well as reviewers. The debate lies around whether he is serious about these paintings or whether he is just poking fun at people who take art evaluation seriously, analysing and critiquing paintings to an extent that it becomes a subset all of its own, keeping the self styled experts in work.

For the reviewer and art critic as well as long time music fan the dilemma is something of a Catch-22 situation. If one applauds his paintings, is it because of who he is and if one denigrates the same is it also because of who he is.

In fact, one can go even further and ask whether the paintings themselves even matter in an exhibition by Bob Dylan. Unfortunately for the man, his work cannot be judged impartially never mind objectively and even if some works sell for ridiculously silly amounts of cash, would it make any difference to the actual evaluation of his work. 

 Arrogance in believing that he could simply shift genres with a bit of sleight of hand seems to be an accusation aimed at the man by some purist fans and outraged art critics. This all rides on the presumption that Bob is actually taking the painting seriously instead of just daubing around and having a bit of fun at the expense of fans, critics and other more serious minded people.

Assuming that he is taking this venture serious is an assumption that he has no sense of humour which would be an entirely erroneous one. This writer purposely did not add visuals here as the paintings themselves seem almost extraneous to a good debate.

Artspace in the district.

Different angle of domination architecture in the district.