Art has a unique power to connect us with our deepest emotions, experiences and even hidden wounds. For those with a passion for visual arts, the opportunity to learn from a talented artist is a dream come true.
I had such an opportunity last Saturday morning when the Standard Bank Gallery invited me to a tote bag workshop and walkabout with Lady Skollie, winner of last year’s Standard Bank Young Artist Award, who was exhibiting her latest work, Groot Gat (big hole).
I was in the company of about 100 other people, but as soon as we arrived at the workshop at the gallery in downtown Johannesburg, Lady Skollie, born Laura Windvogel, swiftly brought some reality to the proceedings: “I am not an art teacher so I will not be teaching you how to make art.”
Instead, the 36-year-old artist encouraged us to create whatever we wanted. For someone like me, being given this free rein was both liberating and daunting.
I hesitated as I looked at the array of brushes and paint in front of me, wondering how to unleash my creativity without any specific guidance. But, as I dipped my brush into the paint and began working on my tote bag, I recalled the stories Lady Skollie had shared with us during the walkabout through her exhibition.
Lady Skollie’s art, I learned, often springs from a place of pain and personal experience, resonating deeply with many of us. One story, in particular, touched me profoundly.
She recounted a school visit to an ostrich farm during which her teacher had placed popcorn kernels in her hair, for the birds to eat.
“Have you ever found yourself face to face with an ostrich?
“I certainly have. During my time at a white, Afrikaans school, my teacher singled me out, saying, ‘Who has black hair? Laura, you’ve got black hair! Come here.’
“As a 10-year-old, I obliged, and they showered my hair with a bowl of popcorn kernels that clung to it.
“They placed me in the middle of an ostrich enclosure, assuring me: ‘Don’t move; everything will be fine.’
“Soon, I was surrounded by curious ostriches,” she said.
They devoured the corn directly from her hair.
While some in the room laughed, only because of how the story was delivered, I couldn’t help but feel the pain beneath the humour.
That story brought to mind a painful memory from my own childhood. I vividly recalled a day in grade five, when I had an impressive afro, arguably the biggest in the entire school.
While our English teacher read to us under a tree, unbeknown to me, leaves fell onto my hair. She suddenly burst into laughter and called me to the front.
She proceeded to stick my classmates’ pens into my hair, all the while laughing and exclaiming how “interesting you people’s hair” was.
The reactions of my classmates were in stark contrast — the black kids were shocked, while the white kids laughed and some even touched my hair.
I returned home that day and begged my mother to cut my hair, which she did. To this day, she remains unaware of the incident.
The memory had always been a source of discomfort for me but sharing it in the workshop allowed me to begin to heal.
Throughout the walkabout, many of us experienced a range of emotions. Lady Skollie’s storytelling and artwork allowed us to see ourselves and our experiences through the lens of her art.
Despite her assertion that she was not a teacher, the artist carried books with her and used them to educate us about the references in her work, making it a teachable moment for those of us who might not be familiar with the full history of brown/coloured people in South Africa.
“For this show, I wanted to make something that’s rooted in reality but had a fictitious edge.
“I do make learning fun but often people don’t want to listen to the things that make them uncomfortable and within a brown context or within a so-called coloured context,” she said.
She notes much of the culture of brown communities is derivative — it is influenced by African American hip-hop or sneaker culture.
Yet, in this exhibition, Lady Skollie explores the idea that they are defined not by what they have, but by what is missing — a gap, a void, an omission.
“It’s the wonder of absence; how do you define yourself when you are defined by not knowing something?
“So, the show is about trying to understand this big hole or this gap, what would we fill it with in today’s context because we don’t really have much to reflect back on.
“Much of our history is lost and a lot of our history is lost in assimilation to whiteness and so the hole is a symbol,” said Lady Skollie.
She grappled with the complexity of being “coloured” due to the diverse origins within these communities.
“We have Southeast Asian roots, some of us come from the literal desert, some of us are Madagascan or slaves from Bengal, mixed with white and black people from South Africa, so how do you figure out something when you don’t know?” she posed.
Lady Skollie acknowledged that her work can evoke various emotions in people. Some are moved to tears, some find humour and, for others, it is arousing.
She initially intended to focus solely on brown people in her work as she recognises that, as an artist, sometimes you have to consider your own perspective and experiences.
Experiencing Lady Skollie’s Groot Gat was transformative. It was a powerful reminder of how art can serve as a vehicle for healing, self-discovery and cultural education.
Her ability to share her stories and the pain behind her art allowed us to connect with our own experiences and gain a deeper understanding of the world we live in.
Lady Skollie’s Groot Gat is on show until 15 December.
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