Brett Murray's work, Lying Pig.
Image: Supplied
Wishful thinking is thinking one can attend three exhibition openings in one day. The ambitious plan was to catch Brett Murray’s opening at the Norval Foundation, a group show at Stevenson at noon and Asemahle Ntlonti’s opening at the neighbouring Blank. Needless to say, that did not happen.
Beyond the nominal business of looking at art, I’ve come to appreciate exhibition openings for their auxiliary benefits; networking, seeing familiar faces, sometimes good wine and catching the inevitable whispers of who did what to whom.
With Brett Murray this was upended, the works on show in his latest Wild Life exhibition, commanded all the attention. Eighty sculptures spanning four decades culminate in a striking menagerie of marble and bronze primates, elephants, bulls, pigs and imagined hybrids at Norval.
Brett Murray's Africa Marquette
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“It’s beautiful, hey? Such an impressive body of work! And I love that this exhibition highlights only his sculptural practice," said renowned South African artist Sue Williamson. She went on to school me in the workings of museums, adding that anyone keen to buy a piece would have to go through Murray’s gallery, Everard Read.
As one enters the Norval gallery’s exhibition space assigned to Wild Life, they are greeted on the right by Brett Murray’s 1985 Michaelis School of Fine Art graduate exhibition of satirical sculptures “Butcher, Babies and Bureaucrats” which examined the social and political paradoxes of South Africa at the time.
“I taught Brett," retired UCT Emeritus Professor Gavin Younge told me. "He was one of the students who assisted in my workshop. He did his master’s at Michaelis, under the late Bruce Arnott's supervision, sometime in the late eighties."
I also caught a glimpse of Johann van der Schijff and Penny Siopis. There was quite a strong Michaelis contingent in attendance. All to support one of the institution's distinguished alumni. Celebrated as he is, Brett Murray is by no means an artist without controversy. I have often found myself at odds with some of his works. His critique of authority can be particularly prickly, given the provocative messaging and symbolism he employs using monkeys, pigs and words.
Brett Murray's The Party vs The People.
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His marble and gold-leaf plaque that reads “One Fanon Quote, One Biko Poster, and the Public Love of Jazz Does Not a Revolutionary Make” is a sharp critique aimed at a particular subset of young academic activists. Something about it felt off; it carries a subtly patronizing undertone.
Murray also tends to go hard on ANC comrades. Duly so. Matters even escalated after his 2010 painting of “The Spear”, which depicted former president Jacob Zuma in a Lenin-esque pose, genitals exposed. Yes, that Brett. Which is why an exhibition devoted solely to sculpture felt, frankly, like something of a relief.
Murray’s sculptures may look playful, but their postures reveal deeper questions around power, pride, fear, absurdity and tenderness. Inspired by a wide range of visual references; from Walt Disney animations to East Asian vinyl toys, Roman Sculptor Constantin Brâncuși’s polished forms and West African Baule figures.
"Brett’s sculptures use the language of humour and parody, but beneath that surface lies a profound sense of empathy – for the human struggle, for folly and for resilience,” remarked the exhibition's curator, Karel Nel.
Brett Murray's One Day.
Image: Supplied
My personal favourite this past Saturday was The Party vs The People. You really have to see it to grasp the message. It’s a striking PG-18 illustration of how those in power can take advantage of the very citizens they’re meant to serve.
If I had a house in Bishopscourt then the monumental “Fundamentalists” or the “Again/Again” sculptures would be my go-to pieces. To give character to my high-walled, expansive lawn (instead of building a padel court on it).
Klein Constantia kept the crowd in a state of gentle, cultivated revelry with wine tastings of their bubbly, whites, reds and signature Vin de Constance which coaxed me out of my newfound teetotalism.
Wild Life runs until November 22, next year. More than enough time. While at the Norval do go upstairs to see some impressive Sthenjwa Luthuli meticulously carved wood reliefs and woodcut prints titled Umkhangu/Birthmark. They are next level insanely beautiful and leave one wondering how long each took to make.
On the ground floor, adjacent to Brett Murray's exhibition is Billie Zangewa's Breeding Ground body of work curated by Anelisa Mangcu.
The late Githan Coopoo's premonitory sculptures stand in the centre of Norval's lobby.
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