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The novelty of Sibusiso Mbhele’s large wire and sheet metal helicopters and aeroplanes, some big enough for him to live in, is best captured in the documentary film by Koto Bolofo
(2000). While running around with the smaller planes held high above his head, Mbhele inadvertently invokes dreams of new possibilities of living in the world. Despite living in a
remote rural community, Mbhele dresses in second-hand fighter pilot overalls or commercial airline pilot uniforms, conveying a multifaceted concept of personal identity to the likeminded
admirers of his movable sculptures.
Titus Matiyane’s bird’s eye view drawings of cities (to date: Polokwane, Durban, Pretoria, London, New York, Hong Kong and Rotterdam) stretch far and
wide, from left to right, sometimes up to 15 metres in length, creating vast panoramas and implicating politicised spaces, especially the South African
cities laid out under apartheid. His ‘eye’ travels in perpetual motion, with the viewer marvelling at the extent of his innovative vision captured in these allencompassing
cityscapes.
The novelty of Sibusiso Mbhele’s large wire and sheet metal helicopters and aeroplanes, some big enough for him to live in, is best captured in the
documentary film by Koto Bolofo (2000). While running around with the smaller planes held high above his head, Mbhele inadvertently invokes dreams
of new possibilities of living in the world. Despite living in a remote rural community, Mbhele dresses in second-hand fighter pilot overalls or commercial
airline pilot uniforms, conveying a multifaceted concept of personal identity to the like-minded admirers of his movable sculptures.
John Phalane also has a bird’s-eye-view of the urban environment, but unlike Matiyane, Phalane views the city from above, vertically, not horizontally from the front.
Previously a taxi driver in Johannesburg, Phalane has an uncanny memory of the street grids of urban planning. He draws the layout of the streets entirely from
memory in a phenomenally expressive mindmap.
Sollie Radile (‘Trolley Man’) collects discarded CDs, DVDs, toys and brightly coloured bric-a-brac that he picks up in the streets for his mobile sculpture, and assembles
to glittering effect in a typical wire shopping trolley. The fish scale-like covering of the trolley sparkles in the sunlight as Radile rambles through the suburbs, creating
a startlingly innovative moveable feast of a sculpture.
The intertextuality of Willie Saayman’s work is a virtual snakes-and-ladders boardgame: he draws on artists and influences as diverse as Jean-Michel Basquiat, Albert
Oehlen, Dana Schutz, Yoshitomo Nara, and Jockum Nordström. He readily embraces the influence of graffiti and street culture, as well as graphic novels and the tattoo
images of Gulag reformatory inmates, vividly captured by Danzig Baldaev.
A recurring motif in his work is the motorcar, bedecked with flags, trailer hooks and mounted machineguns: speed and danger all rolled into a menacing vehicle
careering through his art.
Tito Zungu embellishes the covers of envelopes with ballpoint pen drawings of aeroplanes and ships. He remembers as a young boy being fascinated by these
flying objects and sailing vessels while herding cattle in Stanger on the northern KwaZulu-Natal coast. He believes his letters will be delivered quicker if he affixes an
aeroplane, ship or train to the envelope.
The intertextuality of Willie Saayman’s work is a virtual snakes-and-ladders boardgame: he draws on artists and influences as diverse as Jean-Michel Basquiat, Albert Oehlen,
Dana Schutz, Yoshitomo Nara, and Jockum Nordström. He readily embraces the influence of graffiti and street culture, as well as graphic novels and the tattoo images of Gulag
reformatory inmates, vividly captured by Danzig Baldaev. A recurring motif in his work is the motorcar, bedecked with flags, trailer hooks and mounted machineguns: speed and
danger all rolled into a menacing vehicle careering through his art.
Tito Zungu embellishes the covers of envelopes with ballpoint pen drawings of aeroplanes and ships. He remembers as a young boy being fascinated by these flying objects and
sailing vessels while herding cattle in Stanger on the northern KwaZulu-Natal coast. He believes his letters will be delivered quicker if he affixes an aeroplane, ship or train to the
envelope.
Collectively, South African outsider artists’ work posits a veritable and varied perspective on the land and how its people traversed the terrain in creative and innovative ways. Their
work, combined, constitutes a dynamic, multi-angled, even conceptually cubist view of art in South Africa. Something more than worthy of being included in the art historical cannon
of this country.
306 FOR THE LOVE OF LIGHT
FOR THE LOVE OF LIGHT 307