FNB Art Expo 18th Edition
- Betty Phanzu
- Jan 13
- 3 min read
Lifestyle: FNB Art Expo 18th Edition
Back in high school, we had to take some aptitude tests to find our career paths. One of my responses was:
"When something is beautiful and colourful, I can't help but touch it", and my teacher was shaking his head, looking over my shoulder... "That's going to be a problem," he said. And he was right. When I visit an art gallery, keeping my hands to myself is an internal battle. Luckily, fairs like the FNB Art Expo give you something to do with your hands by offering food and drinks on premises.
Remember what I said about connecting with different cultures?
Surely you didn't think me so shallow as to stop at fashion!
This week, we are discussing the 18th Edition of the FNB Art Expo. That was my third attendance in really good company (Hey Sasha!). I like art, and what I like most about it is discussing with the artists or at least their representatives on site.
The intrigue comes from its openness to interpretation. When I look at a piece, I try to read the painter's mind by decoding the colours and finding the easter eggs (as they call it in media and cinematography).
Every piece was a sight for sore eyes; I was delighted by Le Jardin de Ma Mère by Carine Mansan, the oil canvases by Muramuzi John Bosco. I was thrilled to spot Blessing Ngobeni's work from a distance.
I spent a lot of time discussing the meaning behind "L'Envers du Pouvoir" by Jean David Nkot, a series of paintings depicting inequalities and the suffering caused by the war and mining in Congo.
Art, although pleasing, is political and provocative. It's supposed to touch, to make you feel something. And Jean David, as a Cameroonian painter and sculptor of the human condition, does not shy away from conversations about social disparities.
I learned about the creative process behind the series of oil paintings "Le Jardin de ma Mère" by Carine Mansan, a journey through the grieving of her mother, shaping her own experience of motherhood.
The life of a creative often mimics that of a funambulist. It could go either way: Pretty pieces without a home, or a successful artist under the pressure of mass production for profit. How do we ensure our artists benefit from the work of their hands without forcing them to be digestible, or worse, "politically correct"? Which begs an even bigger question: What is art without its sponsors?
In a recent article on Art Africa Magazine's website, a satire called Death of a Salesman: FNB Art Joburg and the End of a Fairytale discusses the post-colonial art scene in South Africa. It challenges the exclusive nature of a paid event in the name of art, therefore shutting out potential enthusiasts unable to afford a ticket. It pushes us to reflect on whether art can be made for the sake of making it in this economic climate. How much are the artists making, and, once again, what is art without its sponsors?
Taking a pretty picture in front of a gorgeous piece is not enough anymore; let us grasp the message behind the work displayed. Artists have a voice, and it's up to us to listen.
What about you? What intrigues you when you step into an exhibition? Let me know, I write back ;) I've added a sneak peek of my favourite pieces too, you know I never come here empty-handed.
I've gathered as many references as I could.
















































































Comments