Friday, 19 May 2017

Superdry - An Orca in the desert



Picture: Jonx Pillemer Photography




Afrikaburn 2017 – an unforgettable experience on more than one level.
In this post you will read about our experience at Afrikaburn 2017, themed ‘play’ as the good the bad (the sad) and the ugly.
The experience was one of extreme mixed emotions – moments so brightly lit by the beauty of people’s love and kindness and moments so blurred by loss and sadness that the entire desert seemed like some sort of hell – An artwork that amongst our roller coaster emotions succeeded far beyond what I expected, people’s comments and appreciation outshining any doubt or fear I had displaying this 9m Orca. 
These comments confirmed any doubt I had that Superdry didn't achieve every single intention I wanted the artwork to achieve. In fact, it surpassed all my intentions. 
In stark contrast to this, I at times experienced moments that made any artwork, no matter how good seem pointless.

We (Me and Michael Daniel – my only team mate – my soul mate and my best friend) decided to take my son Luke (aged 5) with this year.
Me being worried a full 8 days in the desert would be too much, decided to take Luke back the Thursday morning to Ceres (where dad and his grandparents would fetch him.).
I in turn would meet up with Stefanie, Barry and Siegfried - friends that were joining our small camp to return to Tankwa with them.
Mike stayed in the desert this day to complete the mammoth task of getting all elements of Superdry to work fluently and smoothly.

The planning, designing and making of Superdry did not come easy, contrary to what I thought.












Pictures: Chris Joubert @thatcapetownkid

After building ‘Love the way you lie’ in 2015, I thought nothing could be tougher.


Picture: Michael Groenewald @oneimagined


Superdry was tougher in a different way, in a more emotional way perhaps.
With ‘Love the way you lie’ the emotion was there, therefore the artwork was born.
Picture: Jonx Pillemer Photography

The process with ‘Love the way you lie’ was physically very demanding and a way of letting go of these emotions by having to focus on extreme physical work.


Picture: Steven Morrow

In the end letting the artwork burn was a huge emotional release.


Michael Groenewald @oneimagined

With Superdry so much of the emotion only came during the process of making the work – I am not saying this with regret, as I am a firm believer in the lessons life and art have to teach us.
 I believe the things with real meaning, the things so powerful that could change us in a moment, those things most often lie in the struggle – in the dark scary places.
It is often the projects that test us, that we so almost give up on, that matters the most.
To be brutally honest, I have never been this close to giving up on a project in my life, not only in the week of Superdry’s execution in the desert at Afrikaburn, but also in the making of the Orca and the putting together of the project.

Some might immediately think this is because of financial reasons – although I did put quite a bit of my own money into the project without planning. I realized that is is quite easy for people to say something is ‘awesome’ and 'amazing’, and a ‘good cause’, but that it is sadly very hard for most people to open their wallets and put their money where their mouths are.
Mid project I suffered a big financial loss due to material that the manufacturer delivered wrongly and refused to take back without taking off a 50% handling fee. This also resulted in me carrying transport costs both ways (to and from Johannesburg to Cape Town and back) for the material. 
I see this as a lesson learnt about humans – and I appreciate the artwork teaching me this.
Therefore I can say with confidence the reason I wanted to give up was not the money.
One of the reasons I wanted to give up (before Superdry was in the desert) was maybe influenced a tiny little bit by this lesson learnt on the nature of humans, but it was not near enough to make me give up on Superdry.

My spirit was quickly lifted by people’s comments and gifts, love and support once Superdry was in the desert, to remind me that there are some amazing people in this life.


Picture: Ruben Kruger



Picture: Jonx Pillimer Photography



Picture: Michael Wilson




Picture: Michael Wilson


Taking Luke with for me meant a whole lot of attention needed to go into making sure he was safe and okay, but it also added a hell of a lot of stress on Mike.
Both Luke and Mike was really ill at the start of the festival already. 
Mike nevertheless stepped up, took charge and in the first four days of the festival pushed in every single way to execute Superdry the best we could.

I did not think it would be that distracting taking Luke.
Mike changed this artwork from a solo piece to a collaboration as soon as we landed in the desert.
From the Sunday we arrived we spent time at the artwork, went back to camp to eat, and then back to the artwork every day till Thursday morning, despite the exhausting and extreme heat.
Mike even rebuilt a scooter completely as a service vehicle to attend to the artwork faster and with more ease. 


Follow @murdercycles to see more of Michael Daniel's work on  motorcycles to machines of any kind.  Picture: Stafanie Vos

Although I enjoyed every single minute with Luke, I appreciated the fact that he saw the festival from the camp and from the Orca (this was more than enough for a five year old imagination to process, I think).
I was so happy he saw us working hard and working together to bring something to the festival for people to enjoy.
He is five only, but I knew he appreciated us working so hard. He hardly complaining about anything albeit being ill, and taking immense pride in the Orca and our family effort.







I nevertheless had to make sure he was protected from the sun, wasn’t hungry or close to dehydrated and I obviously had to do many trips to the camp and back to the artwork to fulfil basic needs of an ill five year old.
This left Mike in charge of Superdry solely, way more times than I had to take charge during this time.
I promised Mike my full attention from the Thursday I get back with the others from Ceres (once Luke was dropped off). We were both sure it would be a little less intense and we could probably enjoy a drink or two in the evenings and maybe even have a party the Saturday night at our Orca.
I left with Lukie the Thursday morning, the sprayer system on Superdry was still not functioning a hundred percent.
The amount of things one need in the desert to keep a 9m Orca inflated, whilst spraying out water with a water pump connected to a huge tank of water (that had to be organised too), with no electricity was a mammoth task, both before and at the festival.
I was so worried I did not get it all right before we left for Afrikaburn, and it bothered me the first few days of festival.
Mike in high spirits looking forward (just like me) to the downtime and the focus I could (again) add to the artwork once dropping Luke, assured me he would do everything he can to have it all functioning properly on my return late Thursday afternoon.
Little did we know this would be the highest point our spirits would reach for the duration of our festival, and for a long while after.
After dropping Luke and meeting up with the others, I still needed to make two calls to check on our three beautiful doggies before there was no signal again on the long gruelling gravel road ahead of our return.
Before I could make the calls, a voice note from the vet came through.
Our one doggy died in the most tragic accident imaginable.
My heart broke.
My heart broke for the youngest of our three beautiful doggies, with the most captivating little spirit.
He had such a short life.
We could not fetch him as we promised him before leaving.
My heart broke for our other two doggies that loved and accepted the new baby from the first day. How could we explain to them where he had gone?
We dropped the older two at the kennel and the baby with a friend as he was too young to be at the kennel.
How would they understand how we just don’t bring one of our family members home?
My heart broke for Luke for having to deal with such a tragic loss at such a young age.
Mostly my heart broke for Mike.
Our family was left broken. One member missing.
We would return from Afrikaburn and it would never be the same.
I blamed myself for making an artwork and putting my family under so much pressure.
I wanted to blame the artwork – I hated it – I never wanted it up – I was planning on returning to Tankwa, fetching Mike and packing up immediately, to desperately try preserve what was left of my family.
Stefanie insisted on driving.
I was shaking.
She drove back all the way, talking to me, and helping me – I was so grateful for this amazing friend.
Again someone just stepped up as soon as I felt I had no control anymore.
All I remember was seeing Afrikaburn in the distance and thinking I was approaching hell.
I had no idea how I was going to tell Mike once I saw him.

I found Mike at the artwork.
Everything was perfect with Superdry – he fixed everything – he worked harder on that artwork whilst in the desert than I ever did.


Picture: Ruben Kruger

Picture: Jonx Pillimer Photography

It was OUR artwork.
Of art I learned that no one owns an artwork.
I learned that I don’t want to own an artwork ever again.
It again became so clear to me that with any artwork, the concept can’t be separated from the journey, and that the journey alone can’t hold up to the concept without the perfect execution.
I told Mike the saddest news I have ever had to tell anyone, and our hearts broke together.
Not wanting to lose a single thing more, we set up Superdry every day for the duration of the festival – we now desperately in our minds, more than anything wanted the artwork to have more meaning to us, to cover our unimaginable loss.
I prayed for a god damn revolution.
For our broken family to somehow be shown the artwork was worth more than what we lost – that it was worth it.
I felt so selfish for making it!

Needless to say, Superdry – the giant 9m long fuzzy Orca could never replace our doggie, our larger than life, 15cm long, fuzzy fur ball with the biggest personality.
We were left with a giant gap in our hearts, and our family was torn apart.
Nothing could make up for the loss of this little life, never ever.
We loved him so much.

Somehow persisting and putting up Superdry every day did bring some solace.
I think from here on we (me and Mike) both felt the same way – we cared for this artwork more than anything at this festival from this point on – we wanted more from it (we wanted everything we lost from it), and although it could never replace our doggy or fix our broken family, it did bring solace.
Every time someone came and thanked me, I told them it was both me and Mike’s work (because it rightfully is).
Every thanks and every comment was more beautiful and more personal than ever before.
I wanted to share them all with Mike.
I particularly remember on the same evening I got back from Ceres, we were around the artwork and one girl kept saying it was her favourite piece of art she has ever seen. She kept saying: ‘’He is such a good boy’’ – I walked away in a surge of the most intense emotion – I could not speak – She came to me and said it again. I tried through my tears to tell her that I appreciate her comment, but it was just that our doggy died, and that’s what we said to him so many times.
She hugged me the longest biggest hug and said: ‘’Well’ he is such a good boy’, and thanked me again for making him.
Another guy said to me (also the same evening) after hugging the whale somewhere close to the sprayer by his blowhole that he loved hugging the Orca so much, that it was ‘like your doggy pressing his wet nose against you.’
After gaining control for what felt like the millionth time in those few hours, it was here that I realized not the biggest fluffiest thing would ever be enough to make up for our loss.
That it is in the life of the living things, that we experience wholeness, and comfort.
These comments saved me.
My friends saved me – Stefanie took the most amazing footage and pictures when she knew we just could not be bothered in that moment and in our grief to worry about the memory of our artwork living on, but not our doggy.
Our whale has a dorsal fin that could either be displayed up or down in the spirit of the soft toys sold at aquariums.
These toys contrary to the whales they represent in captivity have upright dorsal fins. The dorsal fin of our whale became a symbol to me not only of human ignorance, but if displayed upright it symbolizes happiness and freedom, if displayed down it symbolises sadness, ignorance and entrapment in sympathy with animals and people in physical and figurative captivity.)
 Despite me feeling so sad the entire festival that I never wanted to put the dorsal fin up, people kept popping it up by themselves.
It was nice seeing this constant search for happiness by people, their constant yearning for beauty.
It made me realize that it takes physical change sometimes to be(come) happy again. In some ways this too gave me hope when I look back now.


Picture: Stefanie Vos

Picture: StefanieVos

Picture: Stefanie Vos

To Mike I can only say that you taught me how to collaborate on every level in life – and I will collaborate with you in life forever if you’d let me. You are so dynamic and so strong and Superdry could have never existed without you, I could never exist without you.
I want to thank every person that took the time out to come thank us for our artwork, to every person that hugged our Orca, stroked or wrote messages in his fur, to every beautiful comment I heard that reminded me of why I do art despite the things we lose in life, and maybe even because of the things we lose in life. I am grateful for this experience to each and every one of you.


Picture:Stefanie Vos

Picture: Stefanie Vos

Picture: Stefanie Vos

Picture: Stefanie Vos

Picture: Stefanie Vos

Picture: Stefanie Vos

Steven Mullins @ Manipulating Light

Stefanie and Mike – you two are my forever people!

I love you guys more than life.


Monday, 3 April 2017

Blowing off some steam

Last week, after a quick workout that I only got to so late in the week, I decided to squeeze in another 10 minutes to steam.
Sitting down in the steam room I reflected (as I often do) on just how good exercise makes me feel.
I am 32 this year and for the past year or so I have been realizing more and more how important our health, family and friends are. These things we so often push aside when we get busy with work.
Work is my art, and art is very much part of what makes my life; life.
Another lady got into the steam room a short while after me, and we started talking. I told her my realization and just how I constantly try to shift my focus to the most important things in life as I get older.
She in replied by thanking me for ‘making her day.’ I said thank you, but was thinking to myself how what she just said in turn made my day.
This made me think of a video clip of Viviene Westwood I watched the other day. This claimed that people should read more and widely. She said what we don’t understand in one book or artwork we find in another book or artwork later on. There is a pattern- a connection we find in reading other people’s ideas or thoughts. This make us realize certain things, we understand and connect more of these thoughts the wider  we read or view art.

Here is a link to the clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXClZ9Itc3M 

I think it is some sort of language between things – a puzzle – and we find the pieces the wider we look and the picture in that way becomes clearer.
What Westwood said, could be taken even further into everyday life – one life influencing the next, one artwork influencing another, a book inspiring a film, and film inspiring a thought etc.
The ladies day was made by what I said, and in turn my day was made by her experience and my ability to make her feel this way.
I want to say the way I view life is like one big puzzle, and endless conversation and a story where meaning gets added the longer life on earth continue.
I think in this way an artwork could become so abstract in meaning by becoming part of this ‘language’, that the only thing carrying meaning for the artist him/herself, is more the process of creation and not the end product.
That art for the artist is not the artwork, but the experience of creating the work.
This maybe is also what distinguishes an artwork from a product.
My own art practice and the works I produce I think is possibly the best example of this for me to write about.
We could take anything from very early work like me changing my name right through to Superdry.
The title Superdry derived from a dream I had of my sister handing me a small Orca and me placing it in a Superdry handbag.
The Superdry handbag in itself is a fashion item, and massive international ‘Brand’.
The artwork being part of Afrikaburn in 2017 is displayed in the desert – therefore the title now connects both the dry desert, fashion etc; and it could go on and on.
I keep thinking of more bits and pieces and my idea of the end product always gets influenced; new ideas are often born in this way too. Like a narrative of sorts.
Maybe it is here where an artist’s signature ‘style’ derives from.
For example, the artwork (Superdry) itself and its cause (freeing captive Orcas) made me think of Damien Hirst’s dead shark suspended in a small tank filled with formaldehyde.
The title for Hirst’s work: ‘The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living’ also seemed so (in) appropriate in the case of Orcas in small tanks in captivity.

Hirst’s artwork: The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living, 1991:




By re appropriating the name by leaving out: ‘The Physical Impossibility of…’ and leaving ‘Death in the mind of Someone Living’ it gave me the perfect title for the artwork’s website.


Banksy re appropriating one of Pablo Picasso’s very famous saying in a very Magritte inspired way: 



To relate Superdry even more to Hirst’s very iconic work; it made sense to make Superdry’s website look the same as Hirst’s page.
Obviously not ‘exactly’ the same as there are minor restrictions, but this to me only add to the idea of fashion and ‘fake’, and artificial environments these Orcas live in.
Almost like a pair of fake Nike Airmax – they are the same, but the quality is just ‘slightly’ different.





I have always been intrigued by the ‘originality’ of things so unoriginal.
My parents used to import giftware and other things from China, and I used to be amazed about the way the Chinese could copy, but they just don’t get it 100% the same. There is always compromise in the quality of a thing they copied.
I saw a pin of Hirst’s shark and decided to make my own pin based on that pin – I thought this was a good way to make Hirst’s artwork and its title that I re appropriated a little artwork in its own right.

Hirst’s shark pin: (The Physical Impossibility of Death in the mind of Someone Living, 1991): 




My pin: (The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living, 1991 2017)





I can carry on and on about how all these ideas, and how I thought of all of them, how they link in together and how this then influence and inspire my next artwork or idea.
Sylvanian Families that is another brand I thought of during the production of Superdry, is another part of the artwork that I could (but will not explain), because I do think the point I want to make is explained by my other examples. The point I want to make is that art as life is an endless narrative conversation.
This conversation between artworks, between artworks and music and life (‘Love the way you lie’ is an example of this), between different artists (me and Hirst), between artworks and places (Superdry at Carnival vs Superdry in the desert at Afrikaburn.)
This conversation between all elements of life, but particularly between art and life is what gives an artwork its meaning.
Art creates a meaning that is free to change according to the emotional state of each life that comes in contact with it, a meaning that is influenced by position and placement of an artwork, a meaning that is born to be abstracted by life through life, but also a meaning that creates, a meaning that grows to create new meaning. Like words being strung together to form sentences. In rare cases these words come together in such a harmonious way that the sentences become poetry.
This is art.

To read more  about the project please visit the website: www.deathinthemindofsomeoneliving.com





Friday, 17 March 2017

Fine Carnival Art



Superdry will be in the Cape Town Carnival tomorrow and I am beyond excited.
Partly because I have only moved to Cape Town a few years ago, and I feel so honoured to have one of my artworks included in such an incredible event that I feel really reflects the creative vibrancy of the mother city.
It makes me feel included in a group so filled with creativity that extends beyond the parameters of fine art and what fine art could be.


Images below are from Cape Town Carnival in the past 






Then secondly because it is my artwork in a CARNIVAL!
I will never forget the first (and only) time I was at a Carnival.
My mom took us to Northcliff Corner in Johannesburg to view the University of Johannesburg (then RAU) floats the students built as part of their first year celebrations.
The best and only way I can translate the experience I had (I must have been around 7 years old) was like being Alice in Wonderland.
It was like I was living a dream.
I loved them!
The animals were my best – I particularly remember this huge pink elephant with moving ears – like Dumbo – but HUGE!





 How adorable is this pink hippo!




Many years later I would work in an office in Brixton Johannesburg and drive past the yard where the students would park some of these floats after the event.
I would always feel a sense of nostalgia – as if I want to have been part of creating them or at the very least see them in the parade.
Needless to say, I never thought the day would come that I could have my own artwork in the parade.
In fact, I feel even more privileged as an artist to have the opportunity to show my artwork in this setting.

Art – and what is considered ‘high art or fine art’ (there should be no such terminology in (my opinion) btw) does not allow really to be paraded in a ‘carnival’ – as if the sense of fun/celebratory  the word ‘carnival’ signifies dampens the ‘meaning’ or ‘conceptual thought behind an artwork on display in a carnival setting.
This perhaps is to me the most exciting concept within art practice that I would like to eliminate by exploring these ‘boundaries’ the ‘artworld’ (I really dislike this term too ;) sets.
Not only is Superdry according to me a conceptually sound art piece, but it challenges the ‘meaning’ of art on more than one level.
In my opinion (and certainly applied to my art practice) Fine Art is not something that should only be confined by being displayed in high end galleries with large price tags to an elite few – art can be both celebratory, uplifting and meaningful.
Superdry is an actual artwork and at the same time it is a non-profit ‘charity’ that aims to free captive Whales.
I would lie if I say it is not challenging to blur the lines between what is considered ‘fine art’ and what not, the industry is tough and the critics even tougher.
I do feel like Superdry is my very first artwork that very directly aim to question these elitist values the ‘artworld’ sets.
When meeting with Monique – creative mega mind behind Afrikaburn re Superdry being at the festival (Afrikaburn being the patrons), we discussed just how dirty the whale/s will get with people running through the water he will be spraying and then lying and climbing on him full of desert sand – I mentioned that I would take my wet/dry vacuum cleaner and hoover him daily.
Monique burst out laughing, saying she can’t wait to take pictures of me hoovering the massive 9m life size Orca in the desert… This made me realise that even if something is serious – if the underlying meaning or drive behind something such as an artwork is so intense one can barely deal with it, art can be something that creates change by making things ‘lighter’ and more digestible – art in this way has the power to manipulate emotion in order to create meaning that in turn could create change.

Very keen to get a little hoover like Hetty in the spirit of the Pink Elephant at my first Carnival ;) 




Superdry creates meaning beyond the confinement of what a piece of fine art’s meaning should be – it is alive – it has the potential to grow, it can both mentally and physically challenge in a way that can perhaps even change lives (Animal lives too). In this way it is an artwork that sets an example to me of just how free my artworks can be.

Visit www.deathinthemindofsomeoneliving.com for more about Superdry...

Friday, 8 April 2016

For the Love of God

I recently watched Damien Hirsts’ documentary -Thoughts, Work, Life (2012). It struck me how much emphasis was put on the value of: ‘’For the Love of God’’.


In the part of the documentary where ‘’ For the Love of God’’ is presented, it is introduced with a few short clips of Hirst being interviewed. In all of these interviews he is repeatedly asked questions around the value of the artwork, its worth, and things such as how many diamonds were used etc.
Hirst repeatedly replies in a somewhat dismissive and annoyed manner, that: ‘’ it is not about the money...’’
This reminded me of a stage I went through a few years ago, where I really questioned what art is, or should be.
I guess most artists go through this- maybe even a few times in their career. The short answer I found, is that art is something truthful, created from a very honest place.
The monitory value has no indication of its value to the ‘true’ artist. In this case, Hirst.
Whilst I was grappling with art, what art is and art practice a few years back, Hirst happened to produce ‘For the Love of God’.
The way it seemed the large majority responded to the work, proved to me that capitalist notions exceed the appreciation for artistic genius, it masks meaning, in a way that takes away from the truth.
Despite the exact reasons Hirst created the work, to me the meaning was this – We will all die, despite the material possessions we have or gain in this life.
It spoke of greed and death and our sinful desires. How death remains constant, even when decorated. It spoke to me of a capitalist society, lived through wars started over greed of material things and religions.
In short I thought how most people received the work proved exactly these statements – the material value exceeded the meaning. The focus was shifted immediately to the value of Hirst’s piece.

I thought about the skull a lot – who it belonged to etc.
My dad always had a real human skull that was converted into a decorative ashtray in his bar at home. Ever since I can remember this scull- that I later found out was purchased on one of his trips to Hong Kong- was displayed and used in his bar. Guests were usually humoured by this ashtray, as a little girl I could never get my head around that.
This used to be a person – just like us – that died – just like we will. To me there was no humour to be found in this.




Furthermore, using the scull to smoke with and to put your cigarettes out in was like ‘cheating’ death in a way, perhaps mocking it. We all know the result of smoking.
It surprised me how our own desires and ‘greed’ our addictions purely for our pleasure was used to ‘mock’ and laugh off something serious and certain - death.

It reminded me how people put emphasis on the value of the diamonds on Hirst’s skull, but forgot about the person who died.
How people blindingly stare at death (the skull), but prefer to ignore the certainty of death completely and focus on the material. How our desires and greed is more powerful these days than life itself.

I decided to create a smoke room for my next exhibition. This all also happened around the new smoking laws in South Africa, where people had to smoke in a ‘room’ specifically created for smokers.
I was a student at the time, and had very little money, but I wanted to enhance this feeling of death – I wanted to shift peoples focus.
I managed to get a company to lend me a 6 foot walk in fridge/freezer.



I set the temperature to that of a morgue – this would be the smoke room.



I placed a little table inside with the skull ashtray on it.
(Interestingly Hirst also worked with ashtrays in his earlier work, I only recently discovered this
Around the ashtray I placed lighters with Palestinian leaders on them. To light your cigarette, you had to flip the lighter like a hand of cards.


The cards unfolded with the leaders face on the front.
This to me enhanced the idea of luck, limited time, politics, war and greed.
Outside I placed a cigarette machine.
Instead of writing the prices of the different packs of cigarettes, I wrote Hirst’s title…. ‘For the love of God’ on the digital price display screen.



People were confronted with their beliefs and religion, instead of a price tag when they collected a pack of cigarettes to go smoke inside the cold room.
They were also confronted with one of the titles of possibly the most popular work of art of our times.
I hoped to have shifted their focus, to recognise not only the real meaning in Hirst’s work, but to realise how often we miss the meaning by our inherent greed and desires. By masking reality with desire, we ignorantly can be the cause of our own lives lived in vain.
I found Hirst’s documentary profound. It answered many questions I have always pondered and explained experiences I had as a student and thus far in my career.

I have absolutely no doubt that he is a genius – a true artist, and in some senses a muse to me after watching this.

xxxx