Twee Jonge Gezellen Farm
26.11 - 31.03.2023

Seeds of the Fig compares and contrasts practices of artists working within the medium of sculpture using a variety of materials — from the lustrous and reclaimed, dense and supple, to the solid and elastic. Through the work of twenty-four artists, the exhibition explores what it means to take an idea and mould it into shape, representing that idea in its densest, yet purest form. The title of the exhibition reflects on the notion of germination and growth; good seeds, when separated from bad ones, tended to and cared for, will eventually flourish. 

Anne Truitt, an American artist principally known for her large-scale, hand-painted columnar sculptures reflected on the sensation of “a spontaneous rising of her body” — what others might refer to as ‘being moved’ when experiencing works of art. She noted, “When I am called upon to look critically at the work of another artist, I watch for this response – the spontaneous rise of my whole being.” She describes this as an instantaneous recognition of quality, which is in fact, very rare. Walking through the exhibition, four works, in particular, made my whole being rise in the manner that Truitt describes: Unathi Mkonto’s Flat sheet study 1 (2022), Wim Botha’s installation, Ibrahim Mahama’s Stranger to Lines II (2020) and Cameron Platter’s You Can’t Touch This (2022).

Unathi Mkonto, Flat Sheet Study I, 2022. Photo by Paris Brummer. Courtesy of WHATIFTHEWORLD x Krone.

Unathi Mkonto’s Flat sheet study 1 (2022)

Flat sheet study 1 is a survey in world-building and world-making. In this work, Mkonto used wood, cardboard, paper and velcro to create a topographic structure that resembles a gridded city. I imagined that, if I folded myself to the size of a seed of a fig, made myself small enough to fit inside the structure, I might find different characters living inside the tiny buildings, doing whatever interesting things that little characters inside little buildings might do — eating, sleeping, reading, toting around. The work is a slight departure from Mkonto’s constructions that are informed by making marks in space, but rather lean squarely (and much more obviously) into an architectural modality. 

Wim Botha’s Installation, including: Untitled Figure (after Houdon) (2019), Study for End/Beginning 3 (2019), UNTITLED (LANDSCAPE WITH VARIABLES) (2019), Untitled (The fountain) (2017)

Working within the memento mori tradition, Botha employs symbols evocative of death and mortality. Sculptures carved from wood depict skeletal figures and decapitated heads on plinths, punctuated with brass rods and leather appendages. Experienced together, the sculptures form an installation that reads as a kind of sacred and haunted shrine. 

The human head, in particular, suggests the cerebral and intellectual – the centre of human reflection – which is juxtaposed against abstracted objects of different proportions. The work is compelling and its cogency lies in how each object seems perfectly positioned, angled just so to create visual harmony. 

Wim Botha, Untitled (Landscape with Variables), 2022. Photo by Paris Brummer. Courtesy of WHATIFTHEWORLD x Krone.

Ibrahim Mahama’s Stranger to Lines II (2020)

Mahama’s Stranger to Lines II is affecting because of its scale. The work comprises ten nearly thirteen-metre-long columns made with reclaimed wood tilted against the wall at an angle. The burden of exploitation through the extraction of capital and labour is inadvertently bound up with the weight of the work. 

Stranger to Lines II made me think of the overly theorised (somewhat pseudo-scientific), Stendhal syndrome, a psychosomatic temporary disorder of disorientation one experiences while viewing art. I stood in front of the work for a long time, not quite ready to pass out but definitely overwhelmed with emotion. The scale of the work produces a dramatic energy that transforms not only the space it occupies but those who encounter the space too.

Ibrahim Mahama, Stranger To Lines II, 2020. Photo by Paris Brummer. Courtesy of WHATIFTHEWORLD x Krone.

Cameron Platter, You Can’t Touch This, 2022. Photo by Paris Brummer. Courtesy of WHATIFTHEWORLD x Krone.

Cameron Platter’s You Can’t Touch This (2022)

Touch is a palpably sensual experience, and explicitly being told not to touch something increases your desire to do so. Focusing on essential elements – clean lines, smooth surface – Platter elicits a somatosensory response. The work’s language follows a basic configuration — objects resembling cored bricks (and one that looks like a waste paper bin) are sandwiched between two stools.  It reminds me of the work of Donald Judd, whose goal was to create objects that did not allude to anything beyond their own physical presence. The artwork can stand clear for its own sake, and the pleasure of the work is in the thing itself.

As a means of expression typically existing in three-dimensional form, sculpture affirms its existence through mass and volume. Much more interestingly, the voids, hollows and empty spaces within and around it draw attention to the object but also to the body experiencing the object – walking around it, bending and crouching to see a different perspective, all the while controlling the urge to touch the work. 

Seeds of the Fig offers an opportunity to contemplate seedlings and the germination of ideas, framed by strong ties between artists who embrace ambiguity. Because of its scale, the exhibition risks being excessive, but it is redeemed by the satisfaction of encountering multiple works in a way that is pleasurable, sensuous and sensory. 

Seeds of the Fig is curated by RESERVOIR and hosted at the Twee Jonge Gezellen Farm in Tulbagh until 31 March 2023.