Absa L'Atelier Art Award 2002
by Kathryn Smith
Absa seems to have a lot of money. This sentiment was echoed and re-echoed in the cavernous and impressive architectural spaces of the banking group's downtown headquarters at the announcement of this year's Absa L'Atelier Award winners. Again, Soli Philander was the evening's MC, backed by an outsized projection screen, big background fanfares, endless finger food and a good crowd.
Now where awards are concerned, it's one thing to put on a good, spectacular show. It's quite another to put on a spectacle that despite demands from the podium for wild applause, encouraged by wild graphics from the projection screen, doesn't get the sizeable crowd into the swing of things.
The decision has also been made to rebrand the competition 'L' Atelier' from the previous 'Atelier'. The French Connection seems to have got the better of the organisers. The catalogue is an impressive slim, hardcover affair, but its bright pink and red retro floral patterning on the cover resulted in the impression that everyone - including men - had committed a fashion faux pas and brought along identical handbags.
I must be honest. Having seen last year's award ceremony, which also starred Mr Philander, Big Music and the Bigger Screen, I did not relish the prospect of attending this year. But I've been following the competitions very closely this year (I have been a judge on three for my sins) and with the Absa still celebrating its status as the one with the biggest rewards, it deserves more than a cursory glance. Also, Capetonian finalists Doreen Southwood, James Webb, Benninghof Puren and Conrad Botes had been flown up for the event, which was more than enough incentive.
It was good to see some new names on the Top Ten List (, Retha Bornmann) alongside some more familiar ones (Alastair Maclachlan, Senzeni Marasela, Marlaine Tosoni, Botes, Southwood), but the choice of Marco Cianfanelli as a winner seems more than sensible in a show that largely disappoints, despite some excellent moments.
Another merit winner, Natasha Christopher, who also achieved merit status last year, showed two more images in her series featuring her child Tomas. Extreme, out of focus close ups are printed very large and are as seductive in their content as they are in their soft surface textures. There was a good cross-section of work represented in the Top Ten, which stands as a better snapshot of the competition exhibition than the show itself.
Cianfanelli's relationship with the competition, as he stated in a frank interview on e-news the following night, has been a chequered one. The first time he entered work, as a student at Wits, it was accepted. The next time, he was rejected and was so upset, he didn't enter for seven years. He has entered consistently for the last four, and is, in his own words, a good example of "why you should persist."
Despite Cianfanelli's honesty and genuine appreciation of the benefits of winning an event like this, I left the competition with mixed feelings as to how these events are really seen by art professionals and the public alike. Many of the artists I spoke to expressed disappointment at not winning something, not because of the status afforded a winning artist, but the short-term financial freedom that a prize of this size allows (merit prizes stand at R15 000 each this year). After all, it's not like the winning artists become media darlings or Public Enemies Number One as they do with the Turner, Hugo Boss, Venice Biennale or other major international art awards. I couldn't help thinking that competitions are seen as an alternative to funding grants. And like funding in this country, it's as much of a shot in the dark.
