The Reluctant Ar(ch)tivist

By Melissa Goba May 2017 

In the current political climate and the noise it makes it is often difficult to

extensively read the message of the visual image as one’s senses get filled with

ambient groans of speculation. Walking toward large enveloping images by Muholi

might further complicate this quest. Zanele Muholi’s body of work Somnyama

Ngonyama seemingly attempts to pay homage to her first encounter with black

beauty and love as was personified by Somnyama. Muholi also adds that the series

is pays homage to her mother’s clan name Ngonyama (Ngwane). The lion alluded to

in the word Ngonyama has found many historical, spiritual victorious resonances in

the African cultural archive. In the past her work has celebrated powerful men and

women through photographic portraiture, the murders of her subjects have however

memorialized them and rendered her a reluctant activist. Muholi’s work has often

sat in the somewhat uncomfortable space of unpalatable art and statistical

documentation of society’s discomfort and intolerance of sexual difference.

Ongezwa, Amsterdam, 2016

This series however reflects a different contemporary moment. One that gives the

elusive impression of consumerism, mass production, traditional ritual and political

iconage, but retreats and deflects these meanings in its titles. The image titled

Ongezwa, Amsterdam (2016) of Muholi in blackface donning a headdress of

sunglasses seemingly speaks of consumerism. I am immediately drawn to the

sculptural beauty of the sunglasses pitched at various strands of her locks. These

sunglasses reflect buildings that could arguable be seen in any city be it

Johannesburg let alone Amsterdam, yet these have been assigned the venue of

Amsterdam. One might even ask why Muholi would be prompted to appear in public

in blackface in a European city when the racism-witch-hunt’s frequency has found

resonance on the African continent with social media posts from various political

parties? What is this gaze? Why are her eyes so glazed? What is the aspect of

blackness that is being communicated in this moment?

At this point I would like to err on the side of caution and loose this discussion from

the theoretical framework of postcolonial rhetoric as it is important for this particular

contemporary moment to be placed firmly on African soil. The rhetoric of the

moment falls slap back in Africa, courtesy of globalization. The sunglass headrest

might easily reference the vendors found at every intersection of a metropolitan city

like Johannesburg. Our ambient hooters, overtaking taxis and cars screeching to a

halt are sign-enough of our colonial past, Dutch included. But who then is it that can

aptly be called Ongezwa (Loosely translated: The one who is doesn’t listen)? There is

a reprimanding tone in this title that invokes childhood memories of being pulled by

my ear away from whatever improper activity I had engaged in. The nuns at the

convent school I attended enforced this act in my memory, at least.

The lens of sight referenced in the sunglasses is deafened by its title, calling one to

explore their other senses in the attempt to understand and anchor the message so

that it is never repeated. Yet here we stand dazed and glazed.

Basizeni II, Parktown, 2016

Muholi then calls for our souls (soles) to be helped in the image Basizeni II, Parktown

(2016). She looks to her left, takkies draped over her head and shoulders; lips slightly

pursed and gently ask that they or we be helped. Having been dragged by our

unhearing ears to this next action, there is a clear urgency to the warning she exhales

as she summons the spirit of La Sirèn. My observation of the location in the title and

the year in which this image was shot could be a reference to the student protests of

2016. Dare I be bold enough to even suggest that this photograph being shot in

August ritually softened the ground so that ancestral spirits could be receptive to the

protests in October? One might then ask – were the students helped? Was their plea

heard – both judicially and emotionally?

The role of activist, reluctant as it may seem has been a part of Muholi’s archive for

some time now. Her documentation that began in 2006 in the Faces and Phases

project has formed an archive that has greatly influenced representations of Black

life. This project is a large body of work articulating sexual identity in the LGBTI

community and the strength of South African Constitution in legalizing of same sex

marriages. The Faces and Phases project has foregrounded the everyday in a way

that has managed to steer clear of the political. It is a documentation that notes

difference but doesn’t invite sympathy that would reduce the subjects’ dignity or

humanity.

Muholi’s documentation has in the past been behind the lens, Somnyama has

however prompted her to step in front. Her choice of blackface and props like

sunglasses, shoes, and blankets powerfully guide one to consider a not-sostereotypical

view. Muholi’s subjectivity and stoic performance sober one to cautiously follow the breadcrumbs she places before us. Muholi also invokes the notion of help as it relates to welfare. One need only glance at the recent court cases, protests and trials to gain a perspective where welfare is positioned in present day South Africa. Our elderly who are soon to depart for the ancestral world were threatened with the possibility that they wouldn’t be receiving their social grants.

Having already suffered exploitation under the apartheid government, the strain of

capitalism saw their monies reduced in the debit of prepaid electricity and airtime.

What then was the implication of a ‘telemarketing’ supplier in the distribution of

social grants? More importantly what was the implication of this action on the

dignity of the elderly? Was the Constitution not made for them? Finally what

restorative act would this bring to South Africa in their transition to the afterlife?

 Zamile, Kwa Thema, 2016

Kwa Thema is a town on the East Rand in Springs. A brief conversation with my father reveals that Kwa Thema was named after Selope Thema and was established in the 50’s. Selope Thema was sent to Europe in 1919 to intercede on behalf black South African soldiers who had fought for Britain during the First World War. Zamile implies an attempt or a trying of something. It is however in the past tense. Here Muholi in blackface again pears through a blanket as if she is an initiate, here blanketed body foregrounding a hung blanket. The Xhosa initiating ceremony is somewhat of an attempt at realizing a masculine identity. Is it possible that Muholi is leveraging on her extensive LGBTI currency / archive to question the right of sexual orientation and gender to be included in this traditional archive? Is that what is being attempted here? And what if any are the synergies in this ‘trial’ being attempted in Kwa Thema?

In the attempt at a New view Muholi seems to be guiding us to consider a new arch. An arch that considers the complexity of blackness at is intersects with our colonial history and our modern constitutionality. This I suspect will bring the South African history of independence and democracy to the contemporary moment in Africa while further transporting us into a future yet envisaged by the world. This process is relatively slow and cumbersome which might account for Muholi’s glaze and perhaps ingenuous mindfulness of the notion of time in the New Arch Mission.