The Murmuration of Starlings: Art and Sexuality in a Post Apartheid South Africa

(Nicolas Hlobo, Izithunzi (2009). Rubber inner tube, ribbon, organza, lace, found objects, steel, couch, variable dimensions. Monument Gallery, Grahamstown.)

South Africa is heavily weighed down with issues most of which are overshadowed and ignored, while others, such as race and racial bias, are constantly and almost obsessively prioritized because of our history with Apartheid. Zanele Maholi and Nicholas Hlobo are two artists who are notorious for their works in broadening perspectives on concerns that are often overlooked by society, such as gender inequity and homosexual discrimination. In this essay I explore how their artworks: Izithunzi (Fig. 2), Miss D’vine II (Fig. 3), Stanley Mabena 11 (Fig. 4) and Nando Maphisa and Mpho Sibiya, Sasolburg (Fig. 5), define gender in the post Apartheid South Africa.

Western society has long battled the stereotype that women are inferior to men and despite advances in western feminism gender bias is still a major issue in African and Middle Eastern cultures. Together, Hlobo and Maholi have a broad collection of artworks that explores and exposes how black men and women are repressed by their culture because of their gender and sexuality. This occurring in spite of the fact that the South African constitution does not condone gender or homosexual discrimination. In fact the South African constitution embraces every citizen no matter their race, gender or sexual orientation. Each individual has equal human rights, and yet there are still those that defy the constitution by resorting to hate crimes and corrective rape to such an extent that when reported to the police these injustices are not taken seriously. Because of this it is dangerous to publicly admit to being homosexual or transgender in a post-apartheid South Africa.

When looking at Nicholas Hlobo’s installation entitled , Izithunzi (Fig. 2), the work at first appears to be completely arbitrary, but it is essentially swimming in symbolism. Izithunzi is one of two installations that complete the piece known as Umtshotso which refers to the rituals of entering adulthood in Xhosa culture (Gevisser 2009: 2).  It portrays the exploration that comes with age and the consequences that come with wanting to be mature before your time. Izithunzi (Fig. 2) is made up of eight figures scattered across a dark room with an ominous red glow cast over the group. Izithunzi means shadows (Gevisser 2009: 3), which in itself is awash with meaning. The shadows of leaving our innocence behind, the shadows we hide behind when society does not accept us for who we are and the shadowy thoughts that come with adolescence, especially those dealing with the issues of discovering a different sexual identity to what we have been brought up with.

The figures seem to resemble a Halloween party with their jellyfish, pumpkin and ghost like shapes.  The idea that the figures are gathered for a party draws to the original idea of the traditional Xhosa party undertaken before adulthood. The costumes however, ignite a deeper meaning and a comment on Hlobo’s own sexuality. With the idea in mind that being openly homosexual in a post-Apartheid South Africa is dangerous the result is that many hide their sexuality behind a costume, pretending to be something they are not and often dealing with the idea that society presses on them - that they are unnatural, that they are freaks. While those that oppress them are in actual fact the freaks and the monsters of society. Each figure is constructed of materials rife with meaning. The rubber inner tubing symbolises the hardened texture of masculinity as it can refer to a condom and is quite a tough textile. A direct contrast to the rubber is found in the use of delicate feminine details such as, lace, organza and ribbon. These textiles connect each figure, thus representing the unification of masculine and feminine whether through intercourse or homosexuality an ambiguity is created that challenges assumptions on gender stereotypes (Gevisser 2009:2).

The aboutness of my chosen three photographs taken by Muholi is similar in context Izithunzi. Miss D’Vine II (Fig.3) is a photograph of a man dressed in feminine attire. The subject matter and the photo itself is not as serious as her other works but it is effective in highlighting the bridge between masculine and feminine.  In her photograph entitled Nando Maphisa and Mpho Sibiya, Sasolburg(Fig. 5), their clothing has been thoughtfully chosen as it is the uniform of a sangoma, which is an ambiguous position in her culture. With MissD’Vine II (Fig 3), the gay male in women’s dress associates with drag, transgender and role-play. It can however be argued that she is imitating a preconscious stereotype with the picture while the red shoes remind me of Dorothy from the wizard of oz and her ruby slippers that aided her in defeating the wicked witch. Is that not the outcome the activist in Muholi desires? To defeat the wicked who abuse and mock a person because of their gender or sexuality?

Her reference to gender ambiguity continues in her work entitled Stanley Mabena 11 (Fig. 4). While he has a male name his breasts are bigger than a man’s should be while smaller than the average females, his face is feminine but he appears to have recently shaved too. As he leans more to the female side despite the fact that he is male it creates the appearance of vulnerability. In many of Muholi’s works masculinity resembles the harshness of life while the feminine is portrayed as defenceless. Looking again at Nando Maphisa and Mpho Sibiya, Sasolburg (Fig. 5), she has photographed a same-sex couple who are dressed as sangoma’s which links to how the position is one free from gender bias and yet, they are declaring themselves lesbian too, which despite this occupation goes against their culture and is recognized as taboo.

Hlobo and Muholi collect the emotions and problems that South Africans face on daily basis in their art. They archive them in a collection that can be viewed by the world as if saying, you wanted to hide it, but this is the truth. This is what is happening! Let’s do something about it. They collect evidence and histories, each photo is a story, and each artwork is figurative slap in the face to a nation that needs to wake up. While seemingly arbitrary at first, they are in fact memories of trauma and, invested with meaning. An objection to those who condone discrimination of any kind and a plea to our government. Clearly the artworks discussed proclaim that we still fight an apartheid in a post apartheid South Africa, one of gender discrimination. Proving that we are not as equal in this new order as we had hoped.