Noria Mabasa's 'Works in Wood and Clay' opened the same night in February, as Xander Ferreira's 'The Status of Greatness'. I missed Mabasa's opening, Ferreira's scandalous escapades having diverted my attention. This, I think, is a pity. Lately, in Cape Town, the debate has centered largely around the ability of the artist to give offence rather than around their art objects. Whilst I do find this approach important, it does tend to reward artists whose work is inclined towards the inflammatory, leaving little time for those whose work operates with slightly more subtlety.

Mabasa's, when I finally did get to see it, turned out to be one such show. An artist who hails from a rural area of Limpopo province, Mabasa has managed to upset some of the binaries of rural/urban, and craft/art, producing some engaging sculpture for more than 30 years. Further, as a Venda woman, her use of wood as a medium challenges Venda tradition, in which carving is usually reserved for men. Here then, is an artist who is making challenging work without making a great big ruckus about it.

Working in wood has also allowed Mabasa to produce sculptures on a much more monumental scale than clay, amplifying her voice, and it is these works which are particularly successful for me. Mabasa's affinity for the medium shows her carving following the natural trajectory suggested by the wood, to create some dynamic sculpture. Frank Ledimo, writing for the Sophie Perryer-edited 10 years, 100 Artists, suggests that Mabasa 'colludes and negotiates' with the wood (2004: 208). And indeed, she does seem to posess a sensitivity to wood, excusing its imperfections by taking advantage of knots, scars, and discolouration as features in her compositions.

Number 19 is a case in point. Comprising two figures bearing a load and a third clinging on and crying out beneath them, it is carved from a single burnt-out tree-trunk; the wood itself a scarred and hollow shell. The cloying, screaming figure at the bottom takes her disfigured, howling mouth from a knot in the wood. Her lips are dry and cracked, giving the viewer an opening through which to see the charred interior of the trunk. It is as if the woman is articulating an emotion felt by the wood; a sense of injustice and injury which is being given voice. On the list of works it is accompanied by the note: 'Ndi Mukegulu a ne a khou thsimbila na Vhaduhulu vhawe vhavhili': it depicts a grandmother's disappointment in her lazy grandchildren who have declared themselves too tired help her carry her heavy load.

Number 18, depicting the Venda 'Ngoma Lungundu' drum being carried from Zimbabwe to Venda, also appears to be about giving voice. Mabasa previously used the traditional drum form in the monumental sculpture she produced to commemorate the 1956 Women's March on the Union Buildings. There, the drum was intended to represent the voices of the women who protested on that day. Here though, the specific use of the Ngoma Lungundu drum, which was said to send the Venda nation's enemies fleeing, seems to express a voice for the Venda people; to articulate a sense of pride in their history. And again, Mabasa's carving seems to add gravity to the subject matter. The drum, said to require many men to carry it, bulges from a particularly bulky part of the tree trunk. The figures beneath seem to buckle and grow weary, the variation in colour of the knobbly old kiaat lending them a vivid bruising.

Carving in wood then, seems to be particularly about taking up one's right to a voice. Mabasa's works in clay though, are more quietly challenging. Although produced in the traditional way - wood-fired, and decorated with red ochre and graphite - these works seem to comment on the tradition, rather than submit to its demands. Of the pot-like forms which she produced for the Earth Summit, Mabasa commented that they were 'not pots, but sculptures' (Quoted in Press: 2003). Indeed, standing a colossal one-and-a-half metres tall, they could be said to be sculptures about pots.

This is also how I tend to understand the clay works on Mabasa's current show; not as pots, but as being about the tradition of pot-making among women. Many of Mabasa's pots here are morphing into women: Number 6 is a headless kneeling woman, her neck the lip of the pot. Number 4, a pot with her arms raised, is suggestive of a woman bearing a pot on her head, except that she has, in fact, morphed entirely into its bearer. There is a playful metamorphosis occurring here, which is notionally similar to the transformations which occur in some of Robert Hodgins' ceramics. In Mabasa's work, the experimentation with form becomes somewhat feminist.

Though this is a strong show I do, however, have some reservations. For one, the display strategies are a little worrying. They remind me a little of Stephen Greenblatt's description of display techniques in contemporary museums: shop display (boutique lighting and the thrill of possession) coupled with the aura of religious relics (1991). There is certainly boutique lighting in attendance at Bell-Roberts, the natural light receding towards the back of the gallery, and the sculptures looming out of the darkness. The effect does help to produce a sense of wonder, but it has the unfortunate side-effect of calling up associations with the primitive objects which are usually displayed in this way in museums. Also, the works are numbered, rather than titled (or 'Untitled') and this tends to reinforce the sense of museum artefacts.

Then there is the realisation that Noria Mabasa's 'Works in Wood and Clay' is actually a group show. As well as Mabasa's 19 works, there are several by her daughter, Joyce Mabasa, as well as works by three students from Vhutsila a vhu tibiwi Art and Craft Centre: Soffie Mulaudzi, Ivy Luvhimbi and Joyce Masingi. Mabasa certainly stands out as the star of the show, but I wonder if there wasn't another way of framing the whole thing. Also included, in what seems to be becoming something of a trend amongst Cape gallerists, are several wooden drums from Mavunde, Venda, made by unacknowledged craftspeople. While these have probably been included to contextualise Mabasa's work in Venda culture, they too have been priced for sale, and I wonder what the reason was for not including the identities of their makers is. Are we dealing with Greenblatt's notion of a museum shop here?

Perhaps then, there are a couple of points of representation and presentation at issue here. But I am loathe to dwell on them: Mabasa is still producing interesting, engaging sculpture, still acting as a mentor for other aspirant artists in her community, and I tend to think, still coming to grips with her medium in compelling ways.

References

Greenblatt, S. 1991. 'Resonance and Wonder'. In: Karp, I and Levine, S. Exhibiting Cultures: the poetics and politics of museum display. Washington DC: Smithsonian Institute Press

Ledimo, M, F. 2004. 'Noria Mabasa' In: Perryer, S (ed.) 10 Years, 100 Artists Cape Town: Bell Roberts Publishing

Press, K. 2003. Noria Mabasa Johannesburg: David Krut Publishing

Opens: January 28
Closes: February 21

Bell-Roberts Contemporary
Fairweather House, 176 Sir Lowry Road, Woodstock
Tel: (021) 465 9108
Fax: 086 656 5931
Email: suzette@bell-roberts.com
www.bell-roberts.com
Hours: Mon - Fri 8.30am - 5.30pm, Sat 10am - 2pm

Images courtesy the gallery and the artists