01.12.2022 - 14.01.2023
Beyond the Veil
The intervention speaks to both the internal and external states of existence. To look beyond oneself, in spite of oneself. To see existence as a revelation. To be veiled or shielded. To exercise autonomy or dependence.
It brought forth constant conversations around ‘consequence’. Non-being immune to change and ultimately how certain decisions, actions, or inaction can alter the course of individual and collective experiences.
More importantly, that to attain one’s dreams was to open oneself to an entirely new reality.
An artist statement, or how I got over
Text provided by Nkhensani Mkhari.
When does a sequential schematic become conscious? In other words, how does one make an artwork come alive? In my case, I deferred to the sideshow of representational art to find some answers. I'm looking towards a novel set of affordances for my practice. In the studio, I aim at cultivating and developing a post-aesthetic practice, the engine of which is an obsession with color theory as an affective system. Color is an honest witness; instead of representing, it projects into space.
I've never found myself interested in criticality as a main objective in my art-making process. I believe that this is best served in other formats, such as public speaking or publishing. Art's enduring radical potential is its ability to take you outside of yourself, expose you to new emotional compositions, and perplex and beguile you into seeing fruitful viewpoints that your everyday identity would not normally allow. When I look at art, I desire to experience conflicting, confused feelings that are kept together by the energy of the piece. This is also what I attempt to achieve. I find myself trying to resolve a conflict with myself that Iʼm not already aware of the resolution to.
I made this suite of paintings with Jonas Gwangwaʼs "Flowers of a Nation" and Caiphus Semenyaʼs "Woman Got the Right to Be" playing in the background. Some of the titles allude to this. These albums' deep cadence and rubato have a way of redeeming me, delivering me to a place I've come to call home. These melodies guide my hands to relinquish the current moment in search of some sort of not-yet-Uhuru. These songs remind me of my father, his green fingers, and his deep benevolence. the warm northwestern air.