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AYANA ON PHUMZILE Renowned photographer Ayana V Jackson in conversation with her mentee, Phumzile Khanyile

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RAHIMA GAMBO

RAHIMA GAMBO

Renowned photographic artist Ayana V Jackson in conversation with her mentee, Phumzile Khanyile

Ayana on Phumzile

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From the moment Phumzile walked into my studio I knew my job as her mentor would be simple. Her series, Plastic Crowns, came from so deep within her that only she knew how to extract it. From the onset it was conceptually and aesthetically sound. It was honest, it was relatable, it was… is… at once uniquely South African and completely universal. It speaks to memory and the ways the past and the present are conflated within the lived experience. She offers us a glimpse into her private self as she grapples with a battle so familiar to her generation of South Africans: what does it mean to be suspended above the crossroads, at the intersection of tradition and modernity?

In the series, Phumzile places her own body within the aesthetics of twentieth-century point-and-shoot photography. Perfect in their imperfection, the images evoke family albums that, like our subconscious, are pregnant with decisive moments from our past but somehow remain concealed, hidden from public view. Phumzile unearths these memories, dusts them off and demands reconciliation. “I just felt like I was suffocating from both the demands of what acceptable photography was, and dealing with my grandmother’s expectations of what being a good woman is, so the project became a way for me to raise the middle finger to both,” she tells me.

So much of this was clear at first glance. As a result, I had nothing to offer her as she continued on her creative journey. My only role, I felt, was to give her space to grow, to play, to flourish, while at the same time drawing the best map I could of the potential challenges she would face as an artist. When I asked her to reflect on the experience, she said: “Studying doesn’t prepare you for how intense the industry is. You aren’t really given the scope of what the industry needs from you. It’s hit and miss. If you’re lucky you’ll find someone to teach you the ropes or take you by the hand and guide you through.”

As an outside observer I couldn’t agree more. Phumzile is just one in a sea of amazing photographers and visual artists of her generation, but talent aside, what sets her apart is her interaction with the Market Photo Workshop in Johannesburg. “There definitely can be more done in terms of education for the black child in South Africa,” she says. “There is accessibility in terms of photography schools and learning to create works, but there isn’t really so much access to the industry. So you find a lot of people studying and then dying off, or they end up doing something they hate doing in photography just so they can create and make a living at the same time.”

She, however, won the luck of the draw. It is now two years since our first encounter and I have had the pleasure of seeing her work explode onto the international art scene. I’ve come across it at major art fairs in New York, Paris, London, and of course her native Johannesburg. I am at once a proud mentor, a gushing fan and an awestruck spectator.

I asked her to reflect on her journey thus far. “The first good choice I made was to work with Afronova Gallery, because they take the time to teach me things and walk me through the process. I’m finding that I’m learning while I’m doing these exhibitions and selling works. It’s rare to find a situation where people are willing to be transparent about what’s happening behind the scenes.”

To add to this, Phumzile is also a new mother. While she was busy bringing her art baby into the world, she was also gestating her daughter, Azania. “Having a baby is hard in any industry because I don’t feel like the world creates space for mothers who still want to excel at what they do best,” she reflects. “I don’t want to choose between raising my daughter and being an artist. Thankfully I have my mom and sister and a supportive partner. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be able to travel. It really is different for women. It sucks because most male artists don’t have this issue, they just move the way they always have.”

In this, and in many areas of Phumzile’s life, she shows incredible strength. It has been amazing to watch her take the reins of her career, as well as motherhood, with such a confident grip. As an artist who hates to be asked about future projects, I refrained from asking about hers, but I must admit that like many, I cannot wait to see what comes next.

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