History Repeats Itself
20 April 2020
We are in transition and at a mark of history, the question is how do we transcend from here? For me it begins with painting flowers, we need to make the world beautiful again- and remind humanity of the beauty that this world still and has always contained.
- Banele Khoza
catalogue available on request: banele@bkhz.co.za
DAY 1
Painting takes courage and so does everything important in life. I have had to be courageous multiple times in my life. The many boys I have told that I like, and hearing a No over and over What I didn't know this was preparing me for was the courage to be myself I fear very little lately, I feel the fear- and speak to my fear "I do feel you- but I will do it anyway."
I had to go back to what has been uncomfortable of late which is painting from within (with an image as support in this case). This requires me to be present to my emotions fully with no distraction. Having a model sit for me filters the process. I have avoided this space for a couple of years and lockdown enforced the process.
When we began social distancing, I felt drawn to sunflowers. I suspect there is something to the ochre, as seen with the bananas. I bought multiple bunches that I watched from bloom to complete rot. Surprisingly they also carry caterpillar eggs in them, I spotted two in each wilt. What I have found interesting with sunflowers- besides their attraction to the sun. It is that; if you decide to paint them the following morning. The following day- there would have been a complete change to the composition of the flower arrangement.
DAY 2
‘A single momen’; A portrait of my friend Bernard Brand. I had begun facilitating double seatings for portraits when Brand came to sit - which added more detail to what I observed. Brand was going to return in the same clothing, if memory served him well, he would recall his attire and sit at the Pretoria Art Museum once more (what a privilege we had). Of late, the ceilings were leaking everywhere due to the heavy rains that shut Arcadia, Sunnyside, and the CBD. We endured while also worrying about the state of an institution that was so familiar to the both of us. In its current hands, the ceilings were dilapidating and fostering new homes to mould. In a single moment I worried about the rain that was pouring inside and how the wiring of electric points were being affected? When would a current set a fire? When would the structure tire from holding the history it contained? I felt the responsibility that laid ahead of us in the future as the staff retired. I have known the museum and cared for it more than the average guest as it ignited the flame of my career in the arts. I would snap back to the room which my friend was sitting graciously, not accounting time- our friendship was growing into its fourth year. He is the god- father to my plants when I am away, safe in his capable hands. I hold the same responsibility to his plants. He holds a spare key to my house and I hold a key to his. It is in this period (April 2020) I reap the fruits of our steady friendship. Having stayed by myself for 9 years, each day on lockdown by myself feels like an extended night that I would return home after work to a polystyrene plate and dig into a disappointing plate of cooling food (I always rejected the plastic cutlery from the hands of a waiter in favour of my silver at home). My friend and I have been a gift of normalcy to each other by being present to the others; needs- it could be a call at the shortage of foil or a refuse bag- sometimes quenching a craving of sparkling water. If not a run to the grocery store and asking the other if they needed anything? The truth is; lockdown would have been harder than I would have cared to admit to my family and friends. This confession would have not helped me or them- and obviously I did not want to see the face of pity in their eyes on my 6-inch device. Brand has been a soft memory of the past, a reminder of the present and a hint of the future. We have dared to hug each other after every encounter, as a resistance act of what COVID-19 has taken from all of us; Closure.
‘The constant thing about life’
Can you guess what it is? Yes, I see it in every bouquet that I bring home and discard in a week if I am lucky. I watched these until I was sure it was hazardous to share the same air with them.
In the past I could not bear the sight of wilting flowers, now I could appreciate it and find details of beauty In the hours I have been able to capture their likeness, without their knowledge, I had given them more life than I will ever have.
All they had to do is; Be.
DAY 3
Make beautiful art
The world needs it
Make beautiful art
The world needs it
Make beautiful art
The world needs it
Make beautiful art
The world needs it
Make beautiful art
The world needs it
Notes ON Midnight
