Along Bezuidenhout street, where it meets Viljoen in the park below Troyeville ridge is a bed. Its plush studded headboard is the stuff that Joburg migrant dreams are made of, Beares catalogues and lay-byes. Its pillows have the texture of velvet and on it lays a duvet, creased as if the bed’s occupants had just arisen from their slumber.
The bed is inviting.

On the morning I visit two birds are using the folds of the duvet as a birdbath. The park is green, the bed resting in peaceful shade.

Artists like beds because they hold meaning. Tracey Emin’s messy bed once rocked the global art world, while the most recent Absa L’Atelier Art Awards winner Ian Grose painted unmade beds. “As a painter, the idea of loss and the traces left behind, became, for me, inextricable with a more personal kind of loss. Thus the work features a bed – the arena of love, death and loneliness,” writes Grose. “I liked that the creases in the linen and imprint of the human figure in the beds reflected the function of painting and photography as a trace of the departed.”

Bed of roses, Troyeville

But this bed has its own story. This bed is many things. It’s an invitation, and a manifesto; a place for dreams to be enacted. “Most importantly, says it’s co-creator Lesley Perkes, “It’s concrete but it’s alive” and it’s also a “glorious place to park off”.

Perkes spends her days making public art – handling commissions across our cities. She says: “For months on the school run to Observatory (a nearby suburb) I kept seeing this hideous dustbin, overflowing. A sign on it read ‘Abortion is murder’ and six months later someone had put the words ‘pro-choice’ across it, and done it really badly. The contents resembled foetal overflow…

“I thought why do you drive past this dustbin every day while you preach improvement through public art. It started an obsession with what can we do with very little… The city was supposed to clean that dustbin.”
“Then there was this ugly brick pile of face brick rubble next to my house – that had been there for a year. I called a photographer Johannes Dreyer who lives on the ridge. He’s a great artist with a luminous heart” More importantly to the story Dreyer shared a view of the park where the rubble lay.

A dreaming Basani Baloyi

Writing about it, Perkes said: “The offending facebrick eyesore has been in this pathetic state for at least 1 million and two drive-by’s, and, despite the beautiful work done by City Parks once a month in the area, the detritus remains neglected. Further inspired by the bravery of millions of people around the world who are sick and tired of asking for permission to lead a better life, we will no longer let the situation remain habitually dire.

“The truth is, even when it wasn’t rubble, the irredeemable yellow facebrick (my worst) object made no sense: It was just an inexplicable platform with an equally inexplicable thing on top of it; of no apparent use and never good to look at it.”

And so began a project to transform the rubble pile into something that would ignite the imagination. A brave, and daring act, as much as a knight slaying a dragon to rescue a suburb in distress.

Chili Kier and Pepper Perkes

With love from the yarn bombers

To find a headboard to model the bed on the two went off to Primrose “where we were spoiled for choice” and for R450 secured a pink padded one that is part of the “national visual vocabulary”, as Perkes puts it, “the aspirational R8999 mahogany bedstead”. A duvet from China City followed.

The headboard from Primrose

Dreyer brought in designer and artist Damien Grivas, from Bez Valley nearby, to technically master the concrete formwork. And the bed started to come to life, helped by neighbours who gave space, water and power for its construction. “In the end we rolled the concrete pieces like Egyptians to where it needed to be”.

Perkes says it was a neighbourhood project. It had to be cast nearby because of its scale. “We couldn’t do it on our own. People were always curious, always helping.”

Well not always – the first (and until now, only) act of vandalism took place once the base of the bed had been plastered. Some neighbourhood toughs more keen on mandrax than on public acts of love scrawled “Fukkin poes” in the wet plaster.

Jhb Culture Club and photowalkers' Mark Straw

Hanging in Perkes’ office perched on the Troyeville ridge, with a view that stretches for miles, is a framed Andy Warhol quote “Art is what you can get away with”.

“The bed wouldn’t have existed if we had to ask for permission for it,” says Perkes.
Writing about her encounter with the bed poet Phillipa Yaa De Villiers records: “People trooped in to ?celebrate the courage to make art in the face of corporate doo-doo and ?government don’t don’t and the tik sniffers in the park sat up and ?wondered just for a second before they whirled back into the vortex of ?their suffering pleasure and innocence walked free unmolested.”

Love can do that to you.
* This piece was first published in Sunday Times Lifestyle. All photos by Johannes Dreyer. To read more about the bed and public art projects created by Lesley Perkes go to http://lesfolies.posterous.com/

I hope so.

Material stars some of my favourite local comedians – Riaad Moosa, Nik Rabinowitz and Joey Rasdien (and my favourite hairstyle) – in a warm, funny and gentle family drama, with comedy. It’s the story of a Muslim boy from Fordsburg who is torn between duty to his family/culture/religion and the drive to make people laugh – in Melville. A familiar story inspired by Doctor/comedian Riaad Moosa – “you want to be a what?” (and I suspect by producer Ronnie Apteker who went from computer scientist and internet millionaire to filmmaker who eats, prays, and loves movies and believes what doesn’t kill him makes him stronger. He’s right.)

It’s beautifully shot on Fordsburg’s city streets that you will hopefully recognise. And it’s one of those movies, like Jerusalema, and Hijack Stories, that tell a Joburg story, narrowing the lens to a few city blocks that contain a universe (well Forsdburg during the week and Fordsburg on Sunday, aka Zoo Lake, that is). Fordsburg is a big, and well-played, character in the film. (I read that writer and director Craig Freimond moved there for a few months to authentically capture it in the scripting). But the story is also a universal one – of coming of age, and the tussle between old and new values and generations, between what is tradition and what is “modern”, about obedience and loyalty and its conflict with individuality. It’s sad in parts, and uplifting in others, genuinely warm and funny and really worth watching  - in the movie house – and not on a pirated DVD.  

Riaad Moosa and Vincent Ebrahim as father and son in Material

There are some great performances – on screen Riaad Moosa shines. He is sincere without being earnest, and the film’s poignant moments belong to him and Vincent Ebrahim (of Kumars fame), who plays his father. Joey Rasdien is the friend everyone needs as a wingman aptly described on Spling.co.za as being “like the love-child of Seinfeld’s Kramer and George” and Denise Newton is great as Fatima, mother and wife. There are some small weaker bits – I wasn’t crazy for the granny who looked two generations younger than everyone else and did a “Kumars at No.42″ interpretation – it strained believability – and the ending resolves a little too schmaltz-ily. But still it’s utterly watchable, and completely enjoyable.

There are also some perfect lines – the opening scene is a classic, not to be revealed here. I would hate to be thought a spoiler but Nik Rabinowitz’s translation of two Yiddish words is a shining moment and must be shared.
“Naches (pride) is when your son is chosen as the Springbok hooker, rachmonis (shame) is when your daughter is”. And after watching the State of the Nation address this week and President Jacob Zuma with the “first wife” of many, I was reminded of Rabinowitz’s line that our president misunderstood the priest when he said “fo(u)r richer or fo(u)r poorer…”

Do yourself a favor and see it.

* Material opens on February 17. See more about the movie on Material’s Facebook page. There’s also a great review and interview piece by Khadija Patel, written for Daily Maverick “Riaad Moosa and his bright Material“.

Boloba Fashion Store, corner Jeppe and Von Brandis, JHB CBD by Kutlwano Moagi

Besides for being their to support a friend I share the photographer’s compulsion to bear witness to the moods of the city of Joburg. Moagi’s photographs are evocative, capturing the city’s streets, and the pull between its past, present and future as a “world-class African city”. Speaking at the opening, Mogotsi mentioned “African urbanism” and suggested that there is a question whether gentrification can be applied to these spaces.

Palisade fence surrounding the Joburg Art Gallery, Noord Street by Kutlwano Moagi

I agree with Mogotsi that “a lot gets lost in the formal reconstruction of the city. A lot of stories fall away”. But for me it’s a question not so much of gentrification but of the need for the city to make interventions that create a liveable city for all who call it home. This has been much on mind, seeing as how cities don’t by nature cater to the economically disadvantaged despite being a magnet for their aspirations. It was also on my mind as I drove across Queen Elizabeth bridge that evening en route to Arts on Main and watched as rats the size of rabbits crawled over a burnt out rubbish heap (and my skin) near Bree Street.

The Fifth Floor, JHB CBD by Kutlwano Moagi

The exhibition is all black and white photos of Joburg’s centre from interesting perspectives, behind unexpected fences and walls, with juxtapositions of buildings and people, and images and words all jostling for centre spot. Some upholstered taxi seating offers a view from inside a taxi as you watch a video of the city streets flashing by (filmed inside a taxi) and listen to the running  commentary of a Joburg minibus taxi driver. A “personal, and often aggressive engagement for those living and traveling informally in the city,” said Mogotsi.

The exhibition is on until the 26th of February. Take a seat. Enjoy the ride.

This year will be no different (talking pace here). I have been hearing some interesting plans for the city, talk of a Museum of African Design, whispers about another of African Art (housing an extensive private collection) and the one I am more familiar with, the Wits Art Museum. WAM is a 10-year work in progress that once completed will not only add another notch to Braamfontein’s visitor belt it will transform the art landscape of the city.

The view from inside Wits Art Museum

Sometime in November I had a chance to take a tour of the building on the corner of Jan Smuts Avenue and Jorrisen Street – an extraordinary piece of work.
It’s a block that I have a long acquaintance with – having spent three years traveling the unstable elevators to the Drama and Film Department back when television came with a test pattern. Then we would joke about it needing to be condemned or having been condemned. The reason for the jerky lifts was the grand pianos that were relocated by the music department or at least thats the way I remember it.

I also once went to a meeting at the then already-closed revolving restaurant that sits atop University Corner. There were other revolutions afoot and amid the furtive gatherings I recall one one in that spaceship which still had some groovy dust-covered 70s furniture, shaggy carpeting and other paraphernalia. We swore that we could feel the sway of the building from that height (but it may have been youthful enthusiasm or other influences).

Glimpses of Braamfontein's architectural history

Back to WAM. What was once the dark underbelly of the building filled with community dentists is now an utterly transformed cavernous space, it’s glass-fronted ground floor filled with natural light and giving no hint of the enormous climate-controlled display spaces that make up the largest part of the gallery. It’s lines are clean, and modern and thoroughly attractive and the transformed space will open onto the street, welcoming and encouraging visitors from the city. I took the tour with senior curator Julia Charlton who called it “a great place to view what’s going on in the city”.

Architecturally it expresses the best of the city’s new sensibility, a move away from bunker styles and guarded doorways. For the more factually inclined it has the biggest available standard lift in SA – we established it can fit a horse – plus I read that William Kentridge will be a patron (of “I am not me, the horse is not mine” fame) so it’s all starting to add up. The cost of building was around R40-million. (It started at R64-million but the project budget was trimmed to meet the size of donations). Julia said: “We had to make difficult decisions about what not to put in but the end result is better for it”.

It is an extraordinary space, made more so because it’s exterior gives only a little hint of what is inside.

The Museum will be a permanent home for a collection of African art (put together over 70 years) and consisting of more than 9000 works that have been languishing in storage at the university. There are hints of this in the studded navy tiles that ribbon the building (see the second photo) referencing Zulu beadwork. You can read more about the collections and to stay updated on progress you can join the WAM Facebook Group

And even in it’s barest form, it is inviting and made me feel huge city pride that we finally will have a modern space for art to rival the best. It is set to open in May.

We are on a shopping tour of the inner city with tour company Past Experiences. Our fearless leaders are Jo Buitendach and Tania Olsson and they can spot a bargain at 100 metres. “The best part of shopping in the city, “ says Tania “is that you are not in a mall”. Simple as that. “Plus you get all these smells and sounds in the city,” she says as we walk past a woman selling roasted mielies from the pavement.

This part of town is blanket city. Large fluffy ones from China, mostly with extravagant florals; shades of maroon the style de jour. There are also authentic Basotho blankets but we aren’t buying. Joburg is having a hot flush – a few days of temperatures speeding past 30 degrees – so we are mostly oblivious to the charms of the blanket shops and the sellers who beckon us. Outside the heat has not dampened the hustle and bustle of the city, although to be fair Joburg city can be more about bustle and lots hustlers. A shopkeeper warns us to hold on tightly to our cellphones.

Nanabhay’s store was started by her father. That was in 1974. It used to sell LPs, then CDs and today all that’s left of the music are a few tattered Elias Baloyi and The Mamba Queens record covers – Tsonga hits you can now download as ringtones.

Inside the African Music Store

The African Music Store isn’t the only game in town for these. They are popular items displayed in a number of windows. Customers come from as far away as Lesotho, Zimbabwe and Mozambique for them. Ironically we are a block away from what used to be the home of the bulls – the Johannesburg Stock Exchange – long fled from the city to the more rarefied streets of Sandton. Perhaps this answers why.

This part of the city has a distinct pulse, and lots and lots of goods. Looking for a dessicated baboon, some beads or birdseed, a pair of floral espadrilles or high-tops, leopard print vest (it has an equivalent in Zara except this version’s R35) or a six-tier wedding cake complete with a rondawel and elephant? Come right inside.

Anything you want, we got it!

Or maybe it’s a Chinese tea set or some Shangaan cloths or a flywhisk you’re after? (Who, after watching that BBC footage of Colonel Muammar Gadaffi being interviewed, flywhisk whishing and swishing across his shoulders during question time wouldn’t want one of those. I think it makes the perfect corporate Christmas gift).

Next door, Marak Wholesalers, open since 1964 (it’s gouged into the concrete floor) sells blankets and fabrics, bolts of cheerful Venda cloth with its trademark multi-colour stripes created at least a year before London stripy designer Paul Smith was born.

The fabrics used to be printed in Manchester – now they are mostly from India. Inside the store Martha Maluleke, resplendent in traditional dress, is browsing the Shangaan section. The shy shopkeeper tells me he remembers when there used to be a tram shed across the road, that’s before the Reserve Bank was built.

The fabric prices are low (some R20 or R30 a metre, others less). I often think the city has the last laugh on the suburbs, with its parallel economy. Cross Empire Road and head north to mall city where as one tourist recently told me “There’s nothing worth buying under R1000.” In town, tour guide Buitendach says, paying R15 for a pair of Polaroids (sunglasses) is robbery (“They are worth only R10”). The parallels don’t end there

At Mini Mark Wholesalers huge loudspeakers drown out the city sounds with a reading of the Koran.The clothes are cheap, cheerful and come in “china sizes” Little and littler. I fall for a R45 dress in bold African print. We are beckoned downstairs and find that below the ground floor is a department store and haberdashery that stretches almost a city block. Like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, we wander the aisles dazzled. It’s the same at Johannesburg Wholesalers near Commissioner Street – a dizzying selection of toys, fireworks, kitchen goods and party favours. We head for the Sui Hing Hong supermarket on Commissioner Street where owner Walter Pon welcomes us with aloe juice in every conceivable fruity flavour and takes us on a short tour of the street. He tells us his grandfather came to South Africa before the Boer War, and the store has been on the street since 1943. It’s stocked to the ceiling with wares – I fall for a beautiful and elegant tea caddy and make a note to return for some wonton wrappers and green tea-flavoured pumpkin seeds.

On Diagonal Street one block away we enter a parallel universe, the famous Museum of Man and Science, a muti emporium that has fascinated visitors since 1948. Inside an elderly Indian lady, who speaks fluent Zulu, declines to be interviewed. She is busy dispensing herbs to a man dressed in motorcycle leathers who tells me he has just lost his wife. The herbs are for cleansing, part of the death ritual. The last time I was in the store must have been sometime in the late 1980’s. I remember buying an amulet filled with herbs with protective powers – I also remembered the desiccated baboon hanging on the wall. If it’s the same one he’s still in pretty good shape. There’s a strong steamy-earth smell that seeps into your clothing from the hundreds of animal bones hanging from the ceiling. “it must be hell to do stock-taking here,” the photographer mutters.

Museum of Man and Science, Diagonal Street

We walk out, blinking, into the light. A few shops down a battered sign above a clothing shop reads “Non-White Shop: This notice is displayed in accordance with provisions of the shop hours ordinance, 1959”. It’s a startling little piece of history. Another parallel world. Along our route shops sell cloths emblazoned with leader’s faces. There’s the Swazi king next to the Mandela and Zuma cloths.

I ask whether the Mandela cloth is worth more but the shopkeeper says they are all R35 a piece. There is no Julius Malema cloth to be seen. My amulet must still be working.

*Past Experiences offers a variety of inner-city walking tours. past.experiences@hotmail.com. All photos are by Wesley Poon.

Photo of Boekehuis is from SA-venues.com, things to do in Gauteng

But I am still to blame. Convenience has too often won out over loyalty. Although so far I have stopped myself from downloading fiction on an iPad – Even though the iPad was going to make traveling so much easier and lighter I still can’t bring myself to forgo the book, seeing the cover, feeling the pages, sniffing the paper, admiring the typeface and jagged edges of American edition pages in particular. I am putting it out there – books saved my childhood. Reading is what I do.

Why I can't give up printed books. My heart skips a beat when I see this - a fraction of my bookshelf

But saying that my book-buying is often done online or at a chain in major shopping centers. Convenience and those damn loyalty points that we pay dearly for. We also pay a lot for impersonal service and poorly-read sales staff who file books like Fast Food Nation and Chocolat under cookery and can never find even one of the seven copies that “the system” says it has. Take note Exclusive Books.

What I am reading right now - Evelyn Waugh's hilarious 1937 newspaper world satire. The cover alone makes me happy

The shop is owned by media group Naspers and there had been an open letter and petition doing the rounds. You can add your name at Bookslive. If you are a reader get to Boekehuis and buy a book. Buy an armload and support all that’s good and fair in the world and that deserves to survive.Perfect time to go there is this Saturday, December 10 at 12,.15pm for a discussion between the award-winning Ivan Vladislavic (on his latest work The Loss Library and other unfinished stories) and academic Michael Titlestad. A poignant title – The Loss Library.* Boekehuis is at Cnr. Lothbury and Fawley streets, Auckland Park. RSVP: by Thurs. 8 Dec on 011 482 3609 or Boekehuis@boekehuis.co.za

Below is the open letter that was was distributed by Mark Gevisser, Michael Titlestad and Maggie Davey and will be published in the Mail & Guardian this week.

Open Letter to Koos Bekker, CEO, Naspers 

Dear Mr Bekker

As writers, publishers, readers, and buyers of books, we are deeply distressed that Naspers is considering shutting down the Boekehuis in Auckland Park. While we understand Naspers’ financial considerations, we cannot emphasise enough the importance of the unique space it has created for cultural and intellectual activity in Johannesburg.

Firstly, the Boekehuis public readings and discussions have become among the most important gatherings in the Johannesburg literary calendar. As such, they have done much to promote not only literary talent and ideas, but the profile of both the bookshop itself and Naspers. There are no comparable forums in Johannesburg, and the loss of Boekehuis is a blow against the culture of reading and debate, which is so crucial to the well-being of our democracy, particularly given the steady erosion of book culture in South Africa.

Secondly, in the era of on-line commerce, the Boekehuis staff have set the bar for selecting publications of quality and worth for South African readers. Bookshops, where people of all ages who care about reading can gather and browse – and buy books too, of course -  are at the core of the kind of civil, deliberative culture that we believe South Africa so urgently needs. And when they are as beautiful and welcoming as the Boekehuis, all the more so.

For these reasons, we would urge you to reconsider your decision.

Related Posts:

Zimbabwean writing

Joburg’s inner city hijacked by truth

Joburg master class with David Goldblatt and Ivan Vladislavic 

Taking the Banksy view

In this city begging is an art. It involves different begging styles, each with their own nuances and signs. Chalk it up to the information age and how it’s getting harder and harder to get people’s attention. There’s the man with the coffin on his head (truly) wearing what looks like a doctors jacket as you turn off Oxford Road to Joburg’s swankiest shopping centre, Hyde Park Corner. At the mall a man lies in the busy intersection (making you close your eyes in horror as you watch the rush of cars navigate around him). In Rosebank’s Bolton Road it’s the glue-sniffers at main corners while a few weeks ago I noticed that three beggars in three different parts of town had the same wording on their signs (a cottage industry perhaps?) that read “Hungry boy …”. Saying that I have noted the disappearance of men trying to force boxes of condoms at me at the traffic light (Great. they ranked 1 below the window washers).

From Jenniflower on The Virtual Tourist.com

Then there are the attempts at humor “My donkey has been arrested for eating Robert Mugabe, my dog ran off with my chickens” signs, the guy with the sign “Too lazy to work, too scared to steal. Please assist”  and the very cross-looking man on Westcliff Drive trying to sell pamphlets full of jokes. I really liked the Homeless Talk approach of creating newspapers and newspaper sellers until three different Homeless Talk sellers – on spotting the most recent edition in my car  all rubbed their bellies and looked pleadingly – and in so doing undid the point of selling Homeless Talk in the first place. (It’s a “please clarify moment. Are you begging or selling? You are confusing the driver.”)

There are the blind begging pairs and the men who hold up black garbage bags entreating you to clear your car of garbage. There’s the cross-dressing pancake-makeup faced mime artist in Parktown near the bridge and  the very old man sitting outside the Nelson Mandela Children’s Foundation in Saxonwold who has tragically made his home under the tree. We see him most Fridays, driving to Killarney, and often drop off a parcel of food and then wonder out loud how he came to be left sitting outside one of South Africa’s most charitable institutions – to which the 10-year-old once responded “Don’t they know he’s someone’s children too”.

On Corlett Drive. This photo is from the Funky Doodle Donkey blog. Link at the bottom of this post for more photos

Then there are the beggar stroke confidence-tricksters like  the enormously large lady who I have spotted lying perilously across Oxford main road, a crumpled-up prescription for diabetes medication strategically placed near her seemingly unconscious body. The first time I pulled over, helped her up, drew a crowd, gave her what cash I had – the second time I saw her (a few months later) in the same spot I had evil thoughts. At the Jan Smuts Ave traffic light near Dunkeld there’s a fresh-faced kid who begs for school shoes so he can go back to learning (they must be piling up somewhere because I am sure I am not the only person to bring a new pair  - and one month later he tapped my window and told me the same story. He should have asked for a PlayStation.) He ranks just above the window-washer because of this.

Another from the Funky Doodle Donkey blog - link below

The streets have their own eco-system and rules. Once I asked the one-armed man where he had been after noticing his absence from a corner in Chester Road, Parkview for a few weeks where he begs. He told me “I was on holiday”. I said: “You look relaxed”. Another time when someone I know extremely well said they were sick of car guards I caused a fight by saying “If you’re sick of car guards, you are sick of life – in Joburg. Why don’t you just immigrate”. On that note my favourite car guard has to be the elderly man in Parktown North who scores enormous tips by complimenting my parking skills for the benefit of the street’s cafe society.

It’s a tough one – and I still haven’t figured out how to approach what has become an ever-increasing phenomenon (especially as December approaches). My strategies shift between keeping a pile of change to handing out fruit, clothing and food at traffic lights. I have been accused of creating “co-dependency” and have argued over whether to give just enables the pattern, but I don’t see how pretending people don’t exist is in any way a better solution. I also don’t think it’s a life one would choose to have if given other options. Plus a city without compassion isn’t a city worth living in. But of course it’s tricky, and it’s loaded, with the city’s racial history, and social inequity and the sheer shortage of skills and jobs. Maybe it’s easier to give and then just drive away but I am constantly reminded of the movie “Crash” where seemingly unconnected stories are linked by chance encounters in a disconnected city much like this one, and meaning must be made of them.

* There’s are more great photos and a good post on the Funky Doodle Donkey blog. I have also used a photo from the VirtualTourist.com

Velo, Braamfontein. photo from Yaela's Stage

1. Velo (photo from Yaela’s Stage blog)

Where: The Grove, Melle Street, Braamfontein

What it is: A gallery/coffee shop/hangout/with free wifi/fresh food/great coffee. The kind of place you can stay for an hour/or a day.

What it has: The most delicious croissants, cappuccino and sandwiches, and proximity to real street life (plus parking under Hotel Lamunu).

See more about it on JHB Live, and Braamfontein.org.za

Mikayu salmon platter

2. Mikayu

Where: Cnr Simmonds& Anderson Street Marshalltown

What it is: an Asian/everything  diner near Standard bank’s headquarters so prepare yourself to be surrounded by the villains of 2011 – bankers.

What it has:  delicious sushi, artfully prepared by the friendly chef and great service too.

3. Golden Peacock

Where: Oriental Plaza, Fordsburg

What it is: one of the oldest samoosa take-out joints in the city. It’s been there since I was a kid and is as good as ever

What it has: hot samoosas, mutton, chicken, pea and potato, cheese and onion and a whole more in between. Not the friendliest faces but the samosas make the trip all worthwhile. Plus note the sign:

4. Ramen

Where: The Grove, melle street, Braamfontein

What it is: a little misleadingly named as you won’t find real bowls of ramen here – but the stir fries are tasty, the menu simple and it’s a good lunch stop.

What it has: chicken stir fry with fresh crunchy vegetables

* See Public Art in Joburg – the west side story Part I for how to spend the rest of your time.

Ask anyone who lives here to describe the city of Joburg and they rarely extol its beauty. Mostly they point out it’s a city without a sea and until the Nelson Mandela Bridge it was a city without any remarkable landmarks that aren’t communication towers or apartment blocks. And those are the polite remarks.

Over the past five years, it’s a little known fact that the city has installed an impressive and growing number of public artworks – at last count at more than 50 sites. In 2006 a strategy was put in place to use public art as a way of fulfilling a range of Joburg’s developing needs. It called for a public art levy, a common global practice, that would devote up to one percent of the construction budget on major city building projects to this end. This was implemented by the Johannesburg Development Agency at a time when the city has been undergoing something of a boom, and it will continue.

The unofficial public art in the city - District 9

The splurge on public art has been as much directed at creating social cohesion, as at celebrating this former mining camp’s uniqueness. Eric Itzkin, Deputy Director, Immovable Heritage at City of Johannesburg says: “In the post-apartheid city we are trying to define ourselves and create diverse points of interest”. And while Joburg has had artworks in public prior to this these were about putting the imprint of big men in history on the city map rather than recognising the different communities that have contributed to it.

The materials used in many works are also new, their choice as much about permanence and durability  as guarding against them being dismantled and used for low-cost housing or exchanged for scrapyard cash. Although Itzkin says these considerations “should not curb creativity unduly”. And Zunelle Breytenbach of The Trinity Session who have managed a number of projects across the inner-city says: “It is interesting to note that, given the amount of steel used in artworks, none has been stolen. Surprisingly, theft has turned out to be a lesser threat than weathering and vehicles knocking into sculptures.  As confidence and expertise have grown, there may be scope for experimenting with more innovative materials in the future.”

On the day we walked Stevenson Gallery in Braamfontein was preparing for a new exhibition. Can't get art more public than that

Of course the public art spend has also been great for creating jobs for local artists, says Jo Buitendach of PAST Experiences, an inner-city tour company.  What defines public art is its accessibility; “it can be touched, and seen by anyone at any time”. Many of the pieces take this idea further. A sculpture of Brenda Fassie in Newtown entreats passersby to take a seat next her, while the statue of Walter and Albertina Sisulu on Diagonal Street encourages you to put a child on their laps.

Public arts humanises the city. It changes the rules of engagement. “The gallery is everywhere”, as Chris Dercon head of London’s Tate Modern told an audience at Joburg’s Art Fair recently. And while he was referring to the need for art galleries and museums to stop relying on traditional and elite ways in which people access artworks, his statement applies here.

Joburg’s public art puts the city in conversation with those who use it. Of course the ultimate intent is improving the city, encouraging investment and attracting visitors. Although denizens of the inner city are more used to foreigners taking an interest than white South Africans. On the day we visited a man ran up to me at a traffic light near Diagonal Street and implored me “Take me to America”.

From Alan Paton’s Cry the Beloved Country “[T]hey go to Johannesburg, and there they are lost, and no one hears of them at all” to Phaswane Mpe’s Welcome To our Hillbrow Johannesburg is a “monstrous”, “swallowing” beast. Or in Mongane Wally Serote’s words: “There is no fun, nothing, in it | When you leave the women and men with such frozen expressions … Jo’burg City, you are dry like death”. The new reimagined city strives to change that perception, encouraging the use of public space, entreating people to venture beyond their usual haunts, to see, to stop, to look and in some way to connect with the place. The art on the city’s streets shouts out “welcome!”. And perhaps someday soon that will inspire a new poetry.

*  PAST Experiences does group or customised tours of Joburg’s inner city. Jo Buitendach can be contacted on 011 678 3905 or at past.experiences@hotmail.com

The west end’s Top 10

 1. Eland by Clive van den Berg (2007)

Where: Corner of Bertha and Ameshoff streets, Braamfontein.

Talking about the concrete sculpture with its aloe planters that greets visitors to Braamfontein, Van den Berg comments in his submission statement: “I did not want to make a heroic sculpture … nor a sculpture that would be too immediately located in time and place.” Eland is “a large representation of an eland on a corner where it has long since disappeared”. The sculpture brings to mind San ancestors and the natural environment that has long since been taken over by a growing city. He said he hoped it would prompt “reflection on our relationship to the past, and to the interconnectedness of environmental, cultural and spiritual destinies.”

2. Trees, conceived of by the Imbali Visual Literacy Project, built by Claire Regnard with The Trinity Session (2006)

Where: Juta Street, Braamfontein

The nine metal interactive tree sculptures dot a route along Juta Street in Braamfontein, now a thriving regenerated part of the city with its boutiques, coffee shop Post and the Stevenson Gallery for contemporary art occupying the western corner. The Trinity Session’s Stephen Hobbs remarked at the launch: “The difference with these tree sculptures is that one can touch and even speak to them, unlike art in a museum”. A number of the trees have intricate cityscapes that can be swivelled by hand.

3. Angel of the North by Winston Luthuli from the Spaza Gallery (2010)

Where: Corner of Queens and Kotze streets, Hillbrow.

The five-metre tall concrete winged angel welcomes all to Hillbrow. With its outstretched arms it has been compared to Rio de Janeiro’s Christ the Redeemer, albeit a miniature version. In his brief, the artist wrote: “Its presence serves as a kind of sentinel, and is incongruous with what one might expect to find in this crime and grime-ridden part of Joburg. It does not represent any particular religion, as angels are present in the folklore of many different cultures and generally represent a higher state of being.”

 4. Governor’s House Trees by Americo Guambe, Ngwedi Design and The Trinity Session (2010)

Where: Outside the Governor’s House, Queens Road, Hillbrow.

Guambe’s exquisite sculptures were carved from dead trees found in the area. They stand behind Governor’s House, a single-storey structure “built for the governor of the Old Fort, in about 1908,” writes Lucille Davie on the city’s website.Tree I depicts a young girl looking over the top of the tree towards Hillbrow. Beneath her are carvings representing the different nationalities that have made Hillbrow home. Tree II is a sculpture of a boy pointing towards the city. He stands atop intricate carvings of the cityscape etched into the trunk.

5. Firewalker by William Kentridge and Gerhard Marx (2009)

Where: Entrance to the CBD at the tip of the Queen Elizabeth Bridge, Simmonds and Sauer streets

Along Diagonal street women still walk with braziers lit atop their heads selling sheep’s heads “smileys” or mealies as they make their way across the city. The Firewalker, a metal sculpture created by fractured pieces that split apart as you view it from different points pays homage to these women and the everyday activities of city dwellers. In the book Firewalker Kentridge says: “The sculpture demands a generosity from the viewer …It’s bit like lying on your back and looking at the clouds where you recognise certain shapes”.

6. Albertina and Walter Sisulu by Marina Walsh (2009)

Where: Diagonal Street, CBD

On the day we photographed the clay sculpture city workers were sitting beneath the two struggle icons eating their lunch, testimony to it being a natural part of the landscape. The monument commemorates the enduring love and commitment of the Sisulus to each other and to the nation. They sit holding hands but not directly facing each other (having been separated by Walter’s imprisonment) across from where he once had his real estate office.

7. Paper Pigeons by Gerhard and Maja Marx (2009)

Where: At the intersection of Commissioner and Margaret Mcingana streets, Ferreirasdorp

The three gray three-metre steel pigeons look as if they have been fashioned from origami. As tourguide Jo Buitendach puts it “Most statues have pigeons that sit and poop on them. These pigeons were made for that.” The sculptures have metal rods so the birds can roost on them and the birds are fed by the local community. “Having the pigeons sitting on the sculpture has added to the finality of it,” said Gerhard Marx on jda.org. “It’s part of the choreography of the sculpture.” My favourite piece!

8. Chancellor House  (2011)

Where: Corner Fox and Gerard Sekoto Streets, Ferreirasdorp

Between 1952 and 1960 this building opposite the magistrate’s courts was the office of Nelson Mandela and Oliver Tambo Attorneys. The site was recently reclaimed from 68 squatters who had made their home in the burnt-out shell, with it’s graffiti scrawled across the door “Happy till we die here”. Reappropriated by the city after a drawn-out battle it’s now a museum, its exhibition artfully displayed on the windows of the building, accessible at any time. It’s reinstatement onto the city’s cultural map puts in place what was a missing piece of South Africa’s important struggle history.

9. Ernest Oppenheimer Park by Trinity Session and The Library with Sipho Gwala, Malakia Mothapo, Mfundo Ketye and Stone Mabunda (2010)

Where: Behind the Rissik Street Post Office

“The impala are back,” says tourguide Buitendach triumphantly. The park originally housed the famous bronze “leaping impalas” until thieves hacked their heads and feet off and sold them for scrap. Today it’s a modern space, made for the city as it is and will be, built for children and adults. There are new impalas, a family of cast iron bokkies, an indigenous garden, various sculptures, a basketball court, benches with steel word sculptures that say things like “JOZI nothing is impossible” and an amphitheatre. Interviewed by Designing South Africa, Stephen Hobbs, Co-Director of Trinity Session says the park stands on the site of the Standard Theatre, torn down in the 1960s, which was “the mining town’s solution to an alternative form of entertainment other than brothels and bars on every corner.” A wooden sculpture pays homage to that.

10. Fietas/Fordsburg by Rookeya Gardee, Bronwyn Lace and Reg Pakari (2011)

Where: Subway Street, linking Carr Street, Fordsburg to De la Rey Street, in Pageview and Vrededorp.

This is the city’s largest public artwork incorporating images from photographs of former Fietas residents. Each detail has been lovingly remembered and recreated, from a wallpaper pattern to the tram system. These are the reminiscences of a once thriving community that was torn apart, of nights spent watching films at The Avalon Cinema (with drink outlawed this was a popular form of entertainment), a famous dancing couple and even unpleasant memories of the pass laws. There’s a contemporary twist with the figure of a trolley-puller, the (mostly) men who walk across the city, their trolleys piled high with cardboard or other recyclable material. The plaque reads: “The subway serves not only as a physical link between the suburbs and the city, but also symbolically echoes the links between areas elsewhere in Johannesburg and South Africa similarly torn apart and left isolated by apartheid.”

* This story appeared in Sunday Times Lifestyle 12/11/2011

For places to stop along the way see Public Art in Joburg – The west side story Part II

Benoni: City life without the city

 The words and ideas are mine, the fantabulous retro design and images was put together by my collaborator. It’s inspired by:

1. my childhood memories (of the 70′s – lots of avocado bathroom tiles)

2. growing up in a town that I was always told was a city but never managed to find its pulse, hence my love of Joburg

3. spending many happy days at the Bunny Park (we lived a block away), and occasionally sneaking a bunny home

4. having a road named after Tom Jones who I felt compelled to go watch perform live in Vegas (it seemed like a pilgrimage of sorts, life coming full circle in a hotel modeled on a pyramid) in another city that is actually a cultural desert

5. a place where the mine dumps have yet to disappear (you can actually go sand boarding on them)

6. a city that was once advertised on a tourist postcard as having “the great lakes”

7. the only place outside of Mississippi to have a Mississippi Steamboat shopping centre

8. and to have hosted a giant billboard for much of my childhood that said “I had my first Campari in Benoni”

9. that is also the hometown of a Hollywood queen – Charlize Theron –  and a Monaco princess – Charlene Wittstock.

Can’t be that bad. Enough said.

As for the app it’s fantastic little gadget that pushes you a superb postcard of the day – created by artists, designers and photographers. Download it from the SA app store. It’s fun and it’s free.   See more at http://apostcardaday.co.za/ And if you are feeling creative submit your work.