War Table

2021. Horns and Bitumen on Steel.

This work scrutinises the authoritarian state in which enforced homogeneity, over-seeing control, artificial order, separation and division come into play.  It harks back to the early formation of the state, in which aspects such as agriculture and agricultural output, the measurement and demarcation of land as well as the administration of taxes and documentation of the citizenry became regularised and subject to the control of the state. It simultaneously questions this ongoing practice and desire for control within the modern state.

The work recalls not only the plotting tables employed in warfare, but also a social order planned from a removed position, seen from what James C. Scott (Seeing Like a State, 1998) refers to as a “God’s-eye view, or view of absolute ruler”. Unlike works such as Before the Law and Nine Buckets, the possibility of interaction with the work is limited. The viewer remains outside the work; a removed and transcendent overseer.

Nine Buckets

2021. Steel, Cattle Horn, Soil, Wire, Charcoal on Printed Maps

Nine Buckets responds to the human element within the state/citizen relationship, one defined by and subject to the conditions that exist within a geopolitical jurisdiction. The objects explore the nature of resources, access, administration and control, considering the basic needs and rights of the individual in direct relation to the structures of the state. The symbolic and functional items reference the impact of decision making and administration within daily existence. 

The objects have been placed upon maps that describe the route of the pioneer column from its entry point into the the region, to the site of a protest which inspired the work. Insofar as this track embodies not only the geographical space of the journey, but the passage of time between those two points it becomes an acknowledgement of the histories and narratives that have emerged during this period. 

The processes of retrieving the maps from Google Earth removes the human element from the imagery, recognising the similar processes that occurred with colonial landscape painting which represented the territory as uninhabited, suggesting that both land and resources were available for the taking in a staggering display of selfishness and greed. The physical whitewashing of the maps, which began as an aesthetic decision, recalls the term “whitewashing” as applied to the telling of colonial histories, but also by extension, the “cleaning up” of narratives in general and the potential for telling and retelling events as they pass in the ever unfolding present/past. 

Frontier

2013, Soil, Oil and Wire on Canvas.

At the time of the creation of this work, my mind was occupied with notions of citizenship, belonging and what it meant to feel truly part of the land that one was born into. These ideas had been magnified following an extremely violent assault on my family and I some months earlier, which had had a severely unsettling effect. In a broader framework, I had been concerned with the ideas that have preoccupied me now for decades, the concept of ‘land’ as a geographical arena of existence with vivd aesthetics and social attributes, but also as ‘place’ defined as nation-state, marked into territories, carved up, politicised and commodified.

The soil, literal parts of land, has also now been a part of my work for decades. Within Frontier, it is spread through the entire work from foreground to background, if one is to read the work in such a way. It is part of the land and part of the sky; the soil becomes part of the entire pictorial arena, the pictorial arena becomes the land. In one reading, the soil which infuses the sky may be seen as a barrier. In another, what may be perceived as a fence or barrier in front of a blood red horizon, may also be seen as a bridge across a river. 

As I began to consider this exhibition months ago, my attention fell on this work which has been in my private collection, and my home, since it was first exhibited in 2013. I re-read it within the framework of border theory, and in particular remembering Johan Schimanski’s first border crossing “process”: When we cross a border it is split, and reveals itself as a passage and its status as a barrier is compromised. I decided I had to include this work within Grey-Zones. One of the greatest attributes of painting, is that it can embody ideas that are not necessarily formulated in a linguistic manner. Reading Schimanski, this work seemed to really explore those ideas defined so clearly by him, almost a decade prior to me reading his work.

Manifesto

2018, Soil, Oil, Wire and Paper on Canvas.

This work is one of three earlier works that I decided to inlcude in Grey-Zones. It was originally created for the Joburg International Art Fair and shown with Village Unu. In the contexts of border theory, through it’s name and format, it points to the human element insofar as the conditions of any given territory are largely dictated by policy and ideology. Writing about the work at the time of its creation, I noted that whilst it is a dark work, there remains a warmth. Some of the soil included in the work is burnt, some of it stained, some of it bloody. But there are parts untainted, unstained, that are rich, vibrant and contain life. These are remnants, seeds, the unbroken and the unstained, another part of a story as yet unwritten.Sentinel

Sentinel

2011, Oil, Soil and Wire on Canvas and Wood.

Having made the decision to include Frontier, I felt that this work, Sentinel also had a place in the exhibition and I decided to include it as well. It has been in my collection since it was created, but was borrowed for Zimbabwe meets Italy (National Gallery of Zimbabwe, 2020). At that time, I write the following: These works made in recent years, consider notions of authority and hierarchy in relation to boundaries, territories and the context of place. They question not only the paths through which hierarchy is established and the manner in which this ascendancy is achieved, but also the means in which it is maintained. The use of the physical parts of mud, wire, nails and protective clothing are employed not necessarily as visual elements nor are they limited to symbols and referents but are intended also as the actual elements of physical “place” in which we exist. 

It has been fascinating to me to revisit these works within the framework of border-theory, and to see the manner in which concepts have been intertwined within my work over the past decades. Like Frontier, this work reveals the open passage of the border, but also the divisive post/marker of the sentinel. Whereas the 2023 work of the same name looks to the humanity of the border, here, like Before the Law, the border stands impersonal, resolute and inaccesbile to the spectator.

Carving Lines

Cattle Horn, Wire, Bitumen, Soil and Charcoal on Paper.

Carving Lines refers primarily to the marking and codifying the border; an acknowledgement of the violence of the action. The materials and form refer to historical aspects of the process; the horns to the oxen of the pioneer column, the wire to the nature of contemporary structures, and the bottom layer, blackened out versions of the domain conceived through Google Earth recalling the remote, mediated position from which the territories were carved up and occupied. That these territories were conceived (carved up/allocated/grabbed?) from a remote and mediated position is intriguing – whilst the means in which this was achieved has changed considerably, the manner in which we understand territories via Google Earth, or similar, echoes the process and secondary understanding (if not the motive of the colonisers).

Whilst the mapping involved in the bottom layer of the work established a literal base layer to the ideas, the wire makes a mark over this map – a symbol, but useless unless it corresponds with a practical or physical reality. The wire makes reference to that physical entity; the boundary, the border, the division, the carving. That which determines who is inside, and who is out. Who am I, and who is the “other”. It points to the question of who controls the opening and closing and who may proceed across this line. It asks, how are these crossings facilitated, when are they legal/illegal, what are the requirements to make a crossing – who should administer these requirements, and to what extent are these enabled.

Before the Law

2021. Cattle Hooves, Clay, Wood, Wire on Steel.

This work existed in various forms in the studio before being slowly built up into its present form. My initial thought was to build a one-sided work along the lines of Carving Lines, but at some point my attention was brought to the short work by Kafka, which gave this its conceptual foundation. It is absolutely staggering to me how Kafka so much into a text that is less than two pages long, but somehow he did that. There was no way for me to achieve what he did in a little work – I am not him; I knew it should be large if it were to try to convey the staggering powerlessness of the individual standing in front of the law (to use the metaphor provided by the author). The initial structure was taller than me and I built it in layers in reference to the sort of structure that Kafka suggests, returning to my metaphors, the soil and the hooves, as well as the razor wire which has been part of my work for years. 

The work brings the spectator face to face with a physical structure. Access within or through is the object is denied and concepts of inclusion/exclusion become apparent. As soon as the parameters inside/outside are established, so too are the gatekeepers – who maintains this structure, and according to what authority?  The structure and relationship between individual and law is not primordial, but evolutionary. Through the layers and materials, in particular the hooves and soil, a shared history is suggested; one developed and negotiated in a mutually travelled journey. The layers two not intertwine, but become melded as a unit with the suggestion that the entirety is bigger and more complex than the sum of the contributions. The concept of “waiting” and the arrangement of stools suggest a surrendering or subjugation to the authority of the structures constructed through time,  unknown and inaccessible.

Passage

Cattle Hooves, Bitumen, Soil, Charcoal, Paper and Wood on Steel.

Passage was one of the earliest within this body of work, begun at the same time as the work Carving Lines and went through numerous stages until this final resolution. Though I had been working with the hooves in other pieces, I had not done so here until serendipitously, a pupil of mine placed one into a fire, revealing what turned out to be extraordinary and powerful aesthetic qualities, and which ultimately led to this current form. 

It responds to the initial crossing of the Shashe river into the territory that would eventually become Zimbabwe. The work was built up in layers, with a tissue paper surface imprinted with imagery drawn both from Google Earth, and the minutes of the 1964 Cairo Conference, marking the processes that would eventually determine our national borders. The layers were coated with charcoal, bitumen and the soil that constantly permeates the work, in a manner that suggests monochromatic mapping and aerial views of the land.

Clay Pot

2021. Clay, Wire and Steel.

Clay Pot was largely an experiment into fragility and decay. The intention was to balance the concept of the delicacy of the balance between the actual resources, access to resources and the administration of these. As is visible, the fragments of clay and soil are attached tenuously to the steel vessel, a bucket, ubiquitous in Zimbabwean life. These elements  form a polemic of structure and disorder, a tenet that runs through the entire series of work. As with all the clay in the exhibition, as well as parts of Fence, the work was fired in a pit – a return to the soil and seemingly archetypical elements 

Nyaure Batea

2023. Soil, Mercury, Oil and Wire on Paper.

This work is formed from soil from the Nyaure river in the Gormonzi area, a region panned for alluvial gold. The work was an interrogation into access to resources, but played out at the foundation levels of an industry, an enquiry into the roles of individuals involved at these fundamental levels. Within a hierarchy of resources (if one was to write such a thing), whilst gold is near the apex, the needs of the individuals extracting it are mostly likely at a position far removed from that point, and like many similar endeavours, – their labour and risk in relation to the status of the revered metal is in stark contrast to each other.

As I went through the process of sifting and grading the soil that I had extracted into the various types I would use, I was intrigued that my process was very similar to that employed by the panners, which formed an interesting conceptual link between the work and the subject. From the outset, I intended to use mercury, as something central to the gold extraction process. Combining it to the work aesthetically was more difficult than conceptually, since it seemed to be a visually isolated element. It acts as a literal reference to itself, but also as a metaphor to an element that is simultaneously beautiful, desirable but destructive. 

Fence

2021. Steel.

Fence draws the focus to the mechanisms through which authority is enforced, looking critically at the relationship between the individual and state, with a particular focus on the humanity intertwined within the matrix. The 10 “posts”, hand-held spikes similar to those previously employed by traffic police are more functionally than artistically created, if such a difference is considered. In this regard they exist more as found objects and “authentic versions” of the originals, than “art objects”, though that distinction has been deconstructed since the Dadaists. In order to render the objects with more aesthetic interest, the objects have been subjected to both chemical treatments and fire.

Pipe Dreams

2017. Soil, Charcoal and Steel.

This works refers to the constant need for water, the most fundamental of human resources. Globally, inequality with regard to access of water is plainly obvious. These works highlight this need, but whilst the form of the work most obviously refers to water conduit, it is reminiscent of the core sample drilled both for boreholes, but also those used for prospecting for minerals resource. Though water becomes the key point of the focus, the work is thus broader in conception. 

Passenger I and II

2023. Charcoal, Steel and Wire on Paper.

These works emerged in response to the powerful text of Ian Holding’s Of Beasts and Beings. Within the narrative, a captive is forced to carry a pregnant women in a scotch cart on a seemingly endless journey, though what is described as a post apocalyptic wasteland. I was struck by the sense of this person being rendered powerless in the face of the unfolding horror around her, and more significantly how the sense of the individual is reduced to the inward, personal and isolated being – insignificant in relation to the mechanisms of the world she inhabited. There was a link in my mind to the structure of the individual within Before the Law, and a connection to the individual/state relationship as far as the conditions in which we live are determined by the latter.

Captive

2023. Charcoal, Pastel, Paper and Steel.

Captive was created in preparation for Grey-Zones, exploring the ideas expressed within the Passenger series, but also related to the Self ID series of earlier. Built in to the drawing is a reference to a work of the esteemed artist, Helen Lieros’, The Red String. This work was drawn on an easel  with Helen’s work hanging above me, a constant reminder of the presence of my mentor. The reference is both an acknowledgment of her influence and teaching, but also to the particular work mentioned, which investigated hierarchies of power, and the mechanisms hidden behind these structures.

Borderworks I (I, II, III)

2023. Digital Print, 2048 x 2048px, printed on Fabriano paper.

Within the continual advancement of technology, the advent of the blockchain and cryptocurrency, access to and sharing of information, developments such as Starlink are all located within the wave of globalisation, there has been an assault on many of the frontiers we have taken as a given over the past decades. Each of these advancements not only renders many barriers porous, but redefines each of our relationships to the structures in the places that we reside.

Borderworks began as the creation of NFTs. What very quickly emerged was the fact that access to the territories mentioned above is not guaranteed, nor is it equal. In many instances, it serves to further disadvantage those already on the back foot. Series one was created and with considerable investigation into methods of payment and access, were lodged on the popular NFT sharing site, OpenSea and cemented into the Ethereum blockchain. Within days, the account had been closed, citing “suspicious activity”. Whilst this came at some financial cost, it was fascinating to me conceptually – those original works are effectively gone. In a territory where everyone is celebrating the freedom of Web3, these works are beyond a border more secure than any fence or physical structure. Whatever reprint, re-burn would happen, they would only ever be copies, with the blockchain versions being exactly what was intended, certified originals. What remains, are the links to the works, which I have framed above as original pieces. Like Duchamp’s Fountain (1917), they exist almost entirely, as conceptual elements.

Series two have been more successful, hosted on the Web3 network, Foundation, as yet, still in accessible. These works are prints of the original image, signed as such. The original Borderwork II exist as NFTs, burnt into the Ethereum blockchain, located beyond a border.

Borderworks II (I, II, III)

2023. Digital Prints, 3000 x 4242px, printed on matte art paper.

Within the continual advancement of technology, the advent of the blockchain and cryptocurrency, access to and sharing of information, developments such as Starlink are all located within the wave of globalisation, there has been an assault on many of the frontiers we have taken as a given over the past decades. Each of these advancements not only renders many barriers porous, but redefines each of our relationships to the structures in the places that we reside.

Borderworks began as the creation of NFTs. What very quickly emerged was the fact that access to the territories mentioned above is not guaranteed, nor is it equal. In many instances, it serves to further disadvantage those already on the back foot. Series one was created and with considerable investigation into methods of payment and access, were lodged on the popular NFT sharing site, OpenSea and cemented into the Ethereum blockchain. Within days, the account had been closed, citing “suspicious activity”. Whilst this came at some financial cost, it was fascinating to me conceptually – those original works are effectively gone. In a territory where everyone is celebrating the freedom of Web3, these works are beyond a border more secure than any fence or physical structure. Whatever reprint, re-burn would happen, they would only ever be copies, with the blockchain versions being exactly what was intended, certified originals. What remains, are the links to the works, which I have framed above as original pieces. Like Duchamp’s Fountain (1917), they exist almost entirely, as conceptual elements.

Series two have been more successful, hosted on the Web3 network, Foundation, as yet, still in accessible. These works are prints of the original image, signed as such. The original Borderwork II exist as NFTs, burnt into the Ethereum blockchain, located beyond a border.

The Etchings

The series of etchings were made considering the human element within the parameters of a given territory, given the economic and socio-political dimensions that necessarily make up such a space and are interrogated within the enquiries into borders throughout the exhibition. Within Levels of Life, we note the strata of society, each defined according the the multiple dimensions, access to resources and socio-economic structures. Within Sentinel, Ordinary Survivor, and  308, the individual and human element is brought into question – how do we relate to the individuals within these dimensions and what are the structures that support, perpetrate and condition our experiences within a given territory. The Crossing is the last of the works produced for this exhibition and draws the spectator back to the conception of a space delimited by boundaries. Within the suggestions of landforms and water stands a winged sacrificial figure amidst the reality of the natural world with its incumbent threats, embodied in the crocodile. The presence of the predator points to the rivers rivers north and south which mark the national boundaries: Barriers / Passages, markers of socio-political jurisdictions shadowed by the ideologies which have sanctioned the multiple histories written in this place.

The Digital Works 

Within the digital drawings there is a return to figuration, and a more individual and introspective approach to the concepts. These works explore the ideas of social order, with the collaging and inclusion of images and texts from identity documents there is a scrutiny of the processes and mechanisms according to which the individual is accorded certain status.  These various statuses determine and prescribe positions as 

insider/outsider, citizen/alien or any polemic and scale that may determine self/other. As with all of the works, they seek to investigate how this happens; according to whose authority, in what capacity and through which rights may the individual approach, inhabit and interact with these dimensions?