I'd like for you to take a moment to imagine this with me. You're a little girl of five years old. Sitting in front of a mirror, you ask yourself, "Do I exist?" In this space, there is very little context, and so you move into a different one, one filled with people. Surely, now you know you're not a figment of your own imagination. You breathe their air. You see them, so they must see you. And yet, you still can't help but wonder: Do I only exist when people speak to me?
Želela bih da na trenutak zamislite ovo sa mnom. Mala ste petogodišnja devojčica. Dok sedite ispred ogledala, pitate se: „Da li postojim?“ U ovom prostoru ima veoma malo konteksta, tako da se pomerate u drugačiji - kontekst ispunjen ljudima. Zasigurno, sada znate da niste izmišljotina sopstvene mašte. Udišete njihov vazduh. Vidite ih, pa mora biti da i oni vide vas. Ipak, ne možete a da se ne zapitate: „Da li postojim samo kada mi se ljudi obraćaju?“
Pretty heavy thoughts for a child, right? But through various artworks that reflect upon our society, I came to understand how a young black girl can grow up feeling as if she's not seen, and perhaps she doesn't exist. You see, if young people don't have positive images of themselves and all that remains are negative stereotypes, this affects their self-image. But it also affects the way that the rest of society treats them.
Prilično teške misli za jedno dete, zar ne? Međutim, kroz raznovrsna umetnička dela koja odražavaju naše društvo, shvatila sam kako mala crna devojčica može odrasti osećajući kao da je neprimećena ili da možda ne postoji. Vidite, ako mladi ljudi nemaju pozitivnu sliku o sebi i ako su negativni stereotipi sve što preostaje, to utiče na sliku o njima samima. Ali, to takođe utiče na način na koji se ostatak društva ponaša prema njima.
I discovered this having lived in Cape Town for about five years at the time. I felt a deep sense of dislocation and invisibility. I couldn't see myself represented. I couldn't see the women who've raised me, the ones who've influenced me, and the ones that have made South Africa what it is today. I decided to do something about it.
Ovo sam otkrila dok sam živela u Kejptaunu oko pet godina u to vreme. Imala sam dubok osećaj nepripadanja i nevidljivosti. Nisam mogla da vidim da sam bila predstavljena. Nisam mogla da vidim žene koje su me odgojile, one koje su uticale na mene i one koje su učinile Južnu Afriku onim što je danas. Odlučila sam da uradim nešto po tom pitanju.
What do you think when you see this? If you were a black girl, how would it make you feel? Walking down the street, what does the city you live in say to you? What symbols are present? Which histories are celebrated? And on the other hand, which ones are omitted?
Šta mislite kada vidite ovo? Da ste crna devojčica, kako biste se osećali? Šetajući ulicom, šta vam grad u kojem živite govori? Koji simboli su prisutni? Koje istorije se proslavljaju? A, sa druge strane, koje su izostavljene?
You see, public spaces are hardly ever as neutral as they may seem. I discovered this when I made this performance in 2013 on Heritage Day. Cape Town is teeming with masculine architecture, monuments and statues, such as Louis Botha in that photograph. This overt presence of white colonial and Afrikaner nationalist men not only echoes a social, gender and racial divide, but it also continues to affect the way that women -- and the way, particularly, black women -- see themselves in relation to dominant male figures in public spaces. For this reason, among others, I don't believe that we need statues. The preservation of history and the act of remembering can be achieved in more memorable and effective ways.
Vidite, javna mesta su jedva ikada neutralna kao što možda izgledaju. Otkrila sam ovo kada sam imala izvedbu 2013. godine na Dan nasleđa. Kejptaun je prepun arhitekture, spomenika i statua posvećenih muškarcima, kao što je Luis Bota na ovoj fotografiji. Ovo očito prisustvo muških belih kolonizatora i afrikanerskih nacionalista ne samo da potvrđuje društvenu, polnu i rasnu podeljenost, već takođe i nastavlja da utiče na način na koji žene - naročito crne žene - vide sebe u odnosu na dominantne muške figure na javnim mestima. Zbog ovog razloga, između ostalih, ne mislim da su nam statue potrebne. Očuvanje istorije i čin sećanja se može postići na znamenitije i efektivnije načine.
As part of a year-long public holiday series, I use performance art as a form of social commentary to draw people's attention to certain issues, as well as addressing the absence of the black female body in memorialized public spaces, especially on public holidays. Women's Day was coming up. I looked at what the day means -- the Women's March to the union buildings in 1956, petitioning against the pass laws. Juxtaposed with the hypocrisy of how women are treated, especially in public spaces today, I decided to do something about it.
Kao deo jednogodišnje serije tokom državnih praznika koristim umetnost performansa kao oblik društvenog komentara da skrenem pažnju ljudi na određene probleme, kao i da se pozabavim nedostatkom crnog ženskog tela na ovekovečenim javnim mestima, naročito u vreme državnih praznika. Dan žena se približavao. Istražila sam šta taj dan znači - marš žena na zgrade vlade 1956. godine koje podnose peticiju protiv zakona o segregaciji. Zajedno sa licemerjem u ophođenju prema ženama, naročito na javnim mestima u sadašnje vreme, odlučila sam da učinim nešto po tom pitanju.
Headline:
Naslov:
[Women in miniskirt attacked at taxi rank]
[Žena u mini suknji napadnuta na taksi stajalištu.]
How do I comment on such polar opposites? In the guise of my great-grandmother, I performed bare-breasted, close to the taxi rank in KwaLanga. This space is also called Freedom Square, where women were a part of demonstrations against apartheid laws. I was not comfortable with women being seen as only victims in society. You might wonder how people reacted to this.
Kako da reagujem na takve potpune suprotnosti? Prerušena u svoju prabaku, nastupila sam golih grudi u blizini taksi stajališta u Kvalangi. Ovaj prostor se takođe zove Trg slobode, gde su žene bile deo demonstracija protiv aparthejda. Nije mi prijalo da se žene doživljavaju jedino kao žrtve u društvu. Možda se pitate kako su ljudi reagovali na ovo.
(Video) Woman: (Cheering)
(Video) Žena: (Kliče)
Woman 2 (offscreen): Yes!
Žena 2 (van ekrana): Da!
Sethembile Msezane: Pretty cool, huh?
Setembel Misezan: Prilično kul, zar ne?
(Applause)
(Aplauz)
So I realized that through my performances, I've been able to make regular people reflect upon their society, looking at the past as well as the current democracy.
Shvatila sam da svojim nastupima mogu da nateram obične ljude da kritički razmisle o svom društvu, sagledavajući kako prošlu tako i sadašnju demokratiju.
(Video) Man (offscreen): She's been there since three o'clock.
(Video) Čovek (van ekrana): Ovde je od tri sata.
Man 2 (offscreen): Just before three. About an hour still?
Čovek 2 (van ekrana): Od nešto pre tri. Oko sat vremena nepomična?
Man 1: Yeah. It's just a really hot day.
Čovek 1: Da. Zaista je topao dan.
Man 1: It's very interesting. It's very powerful. I think it's cool. I think a lot of people are quick to join a group that's a movement towards something, but not many people are ready to do something as an individual.
Čovek 1: Veoma je zanimljivo. Veoma je moćno. Mislim da je odlično. Mislim da je mnogo ljudi spremno da se brzo pridruži grupi koja je pokret ka nečemu, ali nisu mnogi spremni da urade nešto kao pojedinci.
Man 2: So it's the individual versus the collective.
Čovek 1: Dakle, u pitanju je pojedinac protiv grupe.
Man 1: Yeah. So I think her pushing her own individual message in performance ... it's powerful. Yeah, I think it's quite powerful that she's doing it on her own. I'd be interested to know why she's using hair extensions as wings, or whatever those things are meant to be. They are wings, yes?
Čovek 2: Da. Mislim da njeno forsiranje lične poruke u nastupu... moćno je. Da, mislim da je prilično moćno da to radi sama. Zanimalo bi me da znam zašto koristi umetke kose kao krila ili šta god te stvari treba da budu. To su krila, zar ne?
Woman 3: With her standing there right now, I think it's just my interpretation that we are bringing the statue down and bringing up something that's supposed to represent African pride, I think. Or something like that. Something should stand while Rhodes falls, I think that's what it's saying. Yeah. Yes. Thank you.
Žena 3: Time što ona upravo sada stoji tamo, mislim, a to je samo moja interpretacija, da uklanjamo tu statuu i uzdižemo nešto što treba da predstavlja ponos Afrike, mislim. Ili nešto tako. Nešto treba da stoji dok Rouds pada. Mislim da ona to poručuje. Da. Da. Hvala.
Man 3: What is behind me represents the African culture. We can't have the colonialist law, so we need to remove all these colonial statues. We have have our own statues now, our African leaders -- Bhambatha, Moshoeshoe, Kwame Nkrumah -- all those who paid their lives for our liberation. We can't continue in the 21st century, and after 21 years of democracy, have the colonizers in our own country. They belong somewhere. Maybe in a museum; not here. I mean learning institutions, places where young people, young minds are being shaped. So we cannot continue to have Louis Botha, Rhodes, all these people, because they're representing the colonialism.
Čovek 3: Ono što je iza mene predstavlja afričku kulturu. Ne možemo imati kolonijalni zakon, tako da moramo ukloniti sve ove kolonijalne statue. Mi sada imamo svoje sopstvene statue, naše afričke vođe: Bambatu, Mušešea, Kvam Kruma - sve one koji su platili svojim životima za naše oslobođenje. Ne možemo nastaviti u 21. veku i posle 21 godine demokratije da imamo kolonizatore u našoj državi. Oni pripadaju negde. Možda u muzeju; ne ovde. Mislim na ustanove učenja, mesta gde se mladi ljudi, mladi umovi oblikuju. Stoga ne možemo nastaviti da imamo Luisa Botu, Roudsa, sve ove ljude jer oni predstavljaju kolonijalizam.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)
Sethembile Msezane: On April 9, 2015, the Cecil John Rhodes statue was scheduled to be removed after a month of debates for and against its removal by various stakeholders. This caused a widespread interest in statues in South Africa. Opinions varied, but the media focused on problematizing the removal of statues. On that -- well, that year, I had just begun my master's at the University of Cape Town. During the time of the debate of the statue, I had been having reoccurring dreams about a bird. And so I started conjuring her mentally, spiritually and through dress. On that day, I happened to be having a meeting with my supervisors, and they told me that the statue was going to fall on that day. I told them that I'd explain later, but we had to postpone the meeting because I was going to perform her as the statue came down.
SM: Dana 9. aprila 2015. godine planirano je uklanjanje statue Džona Sesila Roudsa nakon jednomesečne debate za i protiv uklanjanja od strane raznih zainteresovanih strana. Ovo je prouzrokovalo rasprostranjeno interesovanje za statue u Južnoj Africi. Mišljenja su bila različita, ali su se mediji usredsredili na problematizovanje ukljanjanja statua. Te godine sam počela magistarske studije na univerzitetu u Kejptaunu. U vreme debate oko statua ponavljali su mi se snovi o ptici, te sam počela da je prizivam mentalno, duhovno i načinom oblačenja. Tog dana, desilo se da sam imala sastanak sa svojim mentorima i oni su mi rekli da će statua pasti tog dana. Rekla sam im da ću objasniti kasnije, ali da smo morali da odložimo sastanak jer sam planirala izvedbu ptice za vreme uklanjanja statue.
Her name was Chapungu. She was a soapstone bird that was looted from Great Zimbabwe in the late 1800s, and is still currently housed in Cecil John Rhodes's estate in Cape Town. On that day, I embodied her existence using my body, while standing in the blazing sun for nearly four hours. As the time came, the crane came alive. The people did, too -- shouting, screaming, clenching their fists and taking pictures of the moment on their phones and cameras. Chapungu's wings, along with the crane, rose to declare the fall of Cecil John Rhodes.
Njeno ime je bilo Čepungu. Bila je ptica od krečnjaka ukradena kao ratni plen iz grada Velikog Zimbabvea krajem 19. veka, a i dalje se nalazi na imanju Džona Sesila Roudsa u Kejptaunu. Toga dana sam otelovila njeno postojanje koristeći svoje telo dok sam stajala na gorućem suncu skoro četiri sata. Kada je došlo vreme, kran je oživeo. Takođe su i ljudi - vikali su, vrištali su, stiskali su pesnice i fotografisali su taj momenat telefonima i foto-aparatima. Čepungina krila su se, zajedno sa kranom, raširila da proglase pad Džona Sesila Roudsa.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)
Euphoria filled the air as he became absent from his base, while she remained still, very present, half an hour after his removal.
Euforija je ispunila vazduh kada je on nestao za postolja dok je ona ostala nepomična, veoma prisutna pola sata nakon njegovog uklanjanja.
Twenty-three years after apartheid, a new generation of radicals has arisen in South Africa. The story of Chapungu and Rhodes in the same space and time asks important questions related to gender, power, self-representation, history making and repatriation. From then on, I realized that my spiritual beliefs and dreams texture my material reality. But for me, Chapungu's story felt incomplete. This soapstone bird, a spiritual medium and messenger of God and the ancestors, needed me to continue her story. And so I dabbled in the dream space a little bit more, and this is how "Falling" was born.
Dvadeset tri godine nakon aparthejda, nova generacija radikala se uzdigla u Južnoj Africi. Priča o Čepungu i Roudsu na istom mestu u isto vreme postavlja mnoga pitanja vezana za pol, moć, samopredstavljanje, pravljenje istorije i repatrijaciju. Nakon toga sam shvatila da moja duhovna verovanja i snovi oslikavaju moju materijalnu stvarnost. Međutim, za mene, Čepungina priča je delovala nedovršeno. Ovoj ptici od krečnjaka, duhovnom mediju i glasniku bogova i predaka, sam trebala da nastavim njenu priču. Stoga sam se još malo pozabavila snovima i tako je rođeno „Padanje“.
[A film by Sethembile Msezane]
[Film Setembel Misezan]
(Video) (A capella singing)
(Video) (Pevanje bez muzike)
[FALLING]
[Padanje]
(Applause)
(Aplauz)
In the film, Zimbabwe, South Africa and Germany share a common story about the soapstone birds that were looted from Great Zimbabwe. After Zimbabwe gained its independence, all the birds except for one were returned to the monument. "Falling" explores the mythological belief that there will be unrest until the final bird is returned.
U filmu Zimbabve, Južna Afrika i Nemačka dele zajedničku priču o pticama od krečnjaka ukradenim kao ratni plen iz grada Velikog Zimbabvea. Nakon što je Zimbabve stekao nezavisnost, sve ptice osim jedne su vraćene na spomenik. „Padanje“ ispituje mitološko verovanje da će biti nereda dok se poslednja ptica ne vrati.
Through my work, I have realized a lot about the world around me: how we move through spaces, who we choose to celebrate and who we remember. Now I look in the mirror and not only see an image of myself, but of the women who have made me who I am today. I stand tall in my work, celebrating women's histories, in the hope that perhaps one day, no little black girl has to ever feel like she doesn't exist.
Kroz svoj rad shvatila sam puno o svetu oko sebe: kako se krećemo kroz prostore, koga biramo da slavimo i koga se sećamo. Sada gledam u ogledalo i ne vidim samo svoj lik već i likove žena koje su me učinile onakvom kakva sam danas. Stojim uspravno u svom radu slaveći istorije žena u nadi da možda jednoga dana nijedna mala crna devojčica neće nikada morati da se oseća kao da ne pripada.
Thank you.
Hvala.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)