6 February, Cape Town

Hello Mark, if you could give us a little background on your education and background here in South Africa?

Well I was born in Johannesburg in 1964. I did my primary school education there. By the age of twelve I decided to move down to the Cape with my family. I was educated in various art schools here in Cape Town during high school. Then obviously I went off to University like any "privileged" white boy would, [I] did a BA at Stellenbosch, and later came back and got my masters, during the period that I was starting to become aware . . . I spent seven and a half years on a scholarship, four of those in Paris and three of those in London, and then came back simply to submit for my masters degree at the University. Before I'd left none of the changes had taken place, Mandela was still in jail, it was kind of strange dealing with the power structures that I had. To a large degree I was reading it as an outsider ] . . . when I came back I decided to stay and to contribute something back.

I looked around and thought of various possibilities, teaching, university posts etc. I found that there were very few spaces or artists who actually practiced on what they'd worked so hard to do. So I thought that an art space would be the best kind of decision to make. Taking into account my history, my racial inheritance, my hopeful awareness of responsibilities that go with the advantage, I try to practice my own work now and run this art space.

The kind of indulgence in my education here had prepared me for Europe because the art school education one gets here is very Eurocentric. One spends possibly a few weeks on the whole history of African Art, you don't go beyond that, you don't discuss contemporary African artists. One spends very little time even discussing contemporary South African art.

So when I got there it wasn't for me a big cultural shock as opposed to more the kind of openness of subject matter than can be researched. I had found when I was working here, in my third or fourth year, I spent a long time looking at abuses of power as it relates to supprssion of sexuality. As it was impossible for me to get research material, I had to go get permission from the director of the University, from my professor then go to the library, sit next to the librarian and look at the books. I wasn't allowed to photocopy them, or quote them, or refer to the books. The thing that I enjoyed about Europe [was] access to all that material. Any subject matter is worth the research just so long as it's done with done integrity. I had two extremes and one was had to be a radical political artist or the other extreme was you had to toe the National Party line. There was nothing in between that for anyone who wanted to be subversive or antiestablishment or sub-cultural. I think to a large extent the Universities are trying very hard, but our education is still very Eurocentric.

Like I was saying earlier, when I came back [to South Africa], I became very aware of the fact that artists [did not have] enough places facilitating . . . them to function as professionals so I decided to open this space. It has been going now for two years. This space functions as a space for people who have not shown in Cape Town. I try very hard to find work which other spaces will not show for reasons of subject matter -- be it political, sexual or sub-cultural, whatever. For reasons of non-commercialism in other words. It's very hard for installation artists to get shows, photographers . . . because the commercial spaces realize, 'rightly so' that you can't make a business run with those kind of options. I also try every year to show younger artists out of University because it's impossible for younger people who are fairly talented but cannot break into the system. So you have the same people -- it's like a stable with the gallery and those people get shown over and over again because they're money scums. They know that the work is going to sell, it doesn't allow people in to question the way that it functions -- the subject matter, the way it's being dealt with . . .

Now finding artists, that's interesting. Lots of places have told me that there aren't many good artists, you can't find good shows. I have actually found brilliant shows. Just get in the motor car and drive around asking other artists if they see or know of any good artists around. Find a warehouse, knock on doors, and see if maybe artists are working there. I visit every group show in Cape Town, I travel to other big cities, every year I make sure I see all of the big shows, and then pick out maybe some young talented person after the shows. The space functions as a 'nonprofit' way in the sense that I subsidize the space -- the curating, the postage, the invitations, the mailing lists, the press releases -- so that one can open up the possibility for artists who are established to do work that might not be commercially viable normally. They don't have to sell . . . they can actually challenge themselves more. Or to help younger people who can't afford to get a show [because] what happens is they get another job to pay back the loans from University and by the time they've paid it back they just don't paint or sculpt anymore. They've lost that passion.

The other reason that this place has been successful, the critics, the media, the other galleries all understand that it's not competing with their business, per say. It's making Cape Town a more vibrant art scene. They actually benefit from what actually happens here with all of the great media coverage. The artists who've had their show will then go to another space and will (be taken) more seriously. In Johannesburg you will find that for every show they've got three inches of space to put the photographs in the newspaper. Having spoken to the newspapers I have wondered why Cape Town gets so much media and other places are always complaining that the journalists refuse to cover what they're doing. It turns out, from my discussions with the journalists, they're not stupid -- they understand that there are certain spaces that are hard hitting commercial spaces. It's a business and I'm not criticizing it. It's necessary for an art market. By covering them extensively it's free advertising for commercial businesses. For the journalists they feel that this kind of work is what need to be pushed, because without that kind of support group it's not going to happen.

[Laughter]

When the Biennale closed down we all panicked, because we knew if the Biennale closed down we might as well all close shop and leave. It would be impossible to get any funding for any large show. It would be impossible to get any funding for the business. The moment you lose credibility on that level it kind of effects everyone down.

I think that it's an interesting question. It's a very touchy subject because if one looks at the history of funding, there has always been funding for arts but that funding has been for specific artists, specific projects. I'm talking about the old government. The problem was that it was preferential funding to the people who represented what the party wanted. Look at the funding now just from the government's level. A lot of artists feel that there were conferences where artists were called on by the A.N.C to help the struggle. To a large extent a lot of artists put themselves in a very precarious situation. They also, to large extent, pushed all of their efforts into fighting the cause along with everyone else in the hopes that the government would help and acknowledge their contribution when this situation stabilized.

A lot of people feel like that's not happening now. From my point of view, I think that there are corporations prepared to put money in when the subject matter does not interfere with their corporate identity. Someone like Absolut Vodka are prepared to sponsor art heavily but it may not have sexual overtones of any kind. I know of someone putting a show together in Grahamstown (who) approached Nestle because the subject matter has to do with childhood. They thought that (Nestle) would be a perfect corporate sponsor, but they said according to accepted world regulations they may not promote their product because it discourages breast feeding so they can't donate money to an art exhibition, so it becomes kind of tricky when one deals with corporations so I think to a large extent people are relying on NGO's, on the department of culture and the external funding, foreign embassies and government, BMW, the Dutch Embassy, the German Embassy, the Swedish Embassy, when we're dealing with the big projects of course, the overseas governments pay for their artist to be here. If we look at the Biennale which just passed there were stories of overseas artists getting R40-, R50-, R60,000 [$12.000.00] budgets and South Africans got to work with R3800.00 [$700.00] .

More specifically about my work, I manage to sponsor big projects from the sale of my work. I sell work; I accumulate funds; and I use those funds for new projects. Both the small space and large space here are owned and trusted by myself and they will only be used for showing fine art. Then I sell the work and use the funds generated from that to subsidize younger artists here . . . sometimes one has shows that are incredibly successful and then one kind of bleeds the money from that for two or three shows which can't generate income.

I have problems getting works into permanent collections -- technically beautiful, well-executed drawings, but the subject matter is a little risqué. I've had offers of sponsorship from magazines who want their logo or themselves associated with what's happening down here . . . also from foundations. My problem is that when one does that, I'm scared that they might start influencing you: what you should and shouldn't sell, and show, and promote . . . I've had to deal with censorship in a hectic way with my own work both here and abroad and I'd rather run a minute space where artists feel that there is some freedom of speech. [A place] where, so long as their work is good, they can come in and say and do what they want, as opposed to a large space that only shows certain kind of artists, certain kind of work . . . we're almost in a kind of system which we had before, certain artists were looked after and everyone else had to find their own way.

Well I trained as a painter and photographer. Obviously, because of the cultural boycott, one was very cut off . . . with what was happening overseas. It was all through journals and newspapers and books -- of course, the one's we were allowed access to. To give you an example, when I was doing my photography courses people had told me about Mapplethorpe and how my work related in some ways to the work he was doing. I couldn't get access to anything the man had done because every book at that time (around 1984) was banned because there were certain pictures of his which they felt were not acceptable. So the entire book was nonexistent.

Then there are people like Ansim Kiffer whose work also relates to the way that I paint. But just because of the financial restrictions on the expenses that they have at their disposal to acquire books, they would choose basic education materials. When I started painting and photography, I started to realize that for me, and the way that I [approached] the audience, I wanted to do something that was more experiential . . .[something] that dealt more with the way that the viewer interacted with the works and how different works create a language between themselves. Developing more of a personal language or poetry. So, naively, I started to do things which I found out later were completely isolating. Slowly one just develops one's own language. What I do now is use painting, photography, and reworked found objects that deal with preferential representation, architecture, public spaces, buildings.

Obviously you've heard of the debacle of the censorship. The problems that people had with my work were not so much the images in themselves, but because of the way the installation works -- which is the relationship between objects taking preference over the importance of a single object. The show that they tried to pull down in France, people complained because I'd combined images of the Afrikaans heroes on the Voortrekker Monument and the images of naked men in a similar lying position of the small Corpus Christi statues on tombstones. It was interesting because it was the French that felt the most offended -- that I could relate their monuments and their civilization to something which they saw as evil. It was kind of ironical, the battles that I've had with the powers that be don't like the fact that I combine religious imagery and erotic imagery. They feel that what should happen is that religious imagery and text should be respected and should only be accessed in an acceptable form. They also feel that my work should not be shown in public spaces because those spaces are for people and they don't want immorality in the spaces.

I tried to explain to them that I agree, according to the democratic structure. Sure the majority of the time those spaces should be used for what represents the majority of the people if one can establish what the majority wants and what the morality is. But according to the way that they would like to think now, each group, each identity must have the opportunity to publicly show themselves the way they would like to be projected. Having looked at the history of these spaces that refuse to show certain kinds of work, one sees that they consistently show accepted work and I think it¹s imperative that one actually finds them, breaks that system. Unfortunately a lot of these spaces are still in the hands of the minority, which come from the old regime. They find it very difficult to let go, they still want to control.

Absolutely. Because I've had to find out things the hard way -- having gone to the expense of putting up an exhibition, framing it, then having all of the nonsense of not allowing us to put up the work -- I'm painfully aware of the responsibility that one has to an artist to create an environment where they feel free and comfortable to do what they have to. It's just the argument that a lot of people who have tried to stop an exhibition have used. They've said, "If we were a private space we could tell you to leave".

You could tell anyone [that] it's your space and you can exhibit what you want to. I've tried to explain to them that that's the difference -- sure commercial business's can control because for them it's a commercial exchange of product for money. But a public space has a responsibility of something much larger because it's subsidized by the taxes of everyone, so everyone has the right to that space.

I find it quite ironic that it's the commercial spaces who are taking the chances showing noncommercial work: the cutting edge pieces; the pieces that question the political, sexual, ideologies and identities of the people of the time. And the public spaces are lagging behind. [The commercial spaces] have the clout to do that . . . if they buy certain kind of artists, then they acknowledge that what [those artists are] doing is relevant and important, which means that artist will then become collectible and commercially viable.

It's very frustrating. I can see that when one puts artists on selection committees (trying to get them into collections), those people don't understand their responsibility, the function that they must fulfill. For instance, the European exhibition of Mapplethorpe where they refused to remove one single picture . . . they blew every political favor they had in their pocket by doing that. They stood behind the integrity of the show.

I suppose the other problem is that we come from a regime where everything was always suppressed, where people were told to do something and to follow orders. Maybe people and artists need to learn, they have certain kind of rights but one must fight for them. In the old space where I had two shows, they tried to ban one. We got it up eventually -- it was vandalized and pulled down. The second one lasted two days.

This has happened to many other artists but they don't understand that they have the right to fight. They don't have to sign contracts which say that works [can be removed without] reason. They can actually negotiate a contract that is beneficial to both parties. The younger generation especially needs to learn that you can fight for your rights. We have the freedom of expression, whether it's in a commercial or public space.

I don't want for us to take this sitting down because if we do, we will land up as a dead art society and then we all wonder why the public is not interested in art. It's because were not fulfilling our function . . . people want stuff that's relevant, cutting edge, that speaks about their existence now. They're not just interested in looking at the pictures of forests, landscapes.

You should be careful about the way you say 'new found freedom' ! Sure there is a new found freedom in the sense that a lot more can be done . . . freedom is always related to the access, to the materials, and to spaces for showing . . and producing their work. The problem is it has become financially impossible for artists to produce. ....

[There are] artists who are commercially successful -- they have the privileges to be able to produce and they have certain freedom. But to attain that freedom, one has to produce a certain way. Constitutionally in society, there are freedoms which are now being established, but those freedoms are abstract concepts. They're not necessarily visible tangible forces.

The work that I'm showing now, if I had shown it ten or fifteen years ago, I'm sure I would have gotten into big shit . . . but I don't know if there's more freedom. Let's say there is more freedom -- it's just very difficult with the constraints to be able to practice. Especially with people who come from traditionally disadvantaged communities. It's fine to say you have the freedom to do what you want, but unless you have the access to the materials, to the homes, to the studios , transportation, that freedom means nothing. Living in a country like South Africa, we find all of the commercial and economical problems very very difficult to function in an artistic environment.

I showed Nicolo Jackson in December/ January of last year and something that stuck in my mind was the radio interview we did. The interviewer asked her, 'why text? What is the tradition of text'?

We all know that art criticism started [with], I can't recall the person's name, the person writing [about] the Renaissance -- about Michaelangelo and Raphael. He started a tradition wherein art was related to and some times independent of text. It got to the point where you had people like Jedd Calsa and Barbara Krueger whose work was only text In working with Nicolo, I understand much more that at any given time there is a certain kind of methodology at your disposal to help people to access what artists are doing.

Artists are using very archaic materials to a large extent -- bronze sculpture, even found objects -- it's a very traditional way of seeing, taking an object and manipulating it. We all know the techniques haven't changed in hundreds of years. In South Africa, for instance . . . Sue Williamson, who has an art site on the Internet, uses the art site as a listing site where it's like a critique of what's happening and it brings people in who would not normally access art. It just opens up and spreads what the artist is doing. It's not just a function within an art gallery, it kind of influences . . .

The Internet is nice for reference for the artist. We at this space are trying to use as much as we can. This whole thing of relevance, one thing that I keep telling artists is that there is one of two possibilities: either you can change your work for the market ; or you can use the media at your disposal - whether it be Internet, newspapers, chatlines, advertisements, flyers in the street, whatever. To create a market for your work, to actually educate the public. Obviously the younger crowd understands the language which is television, video, and the Internet -- so I'm stupid not to use that to [my] advantage.