Unseen Art Scene (mirror)

25/10/2019 My Dearest Prince Babatunde Jellah Epega, Greetings from Royal Tunbridge Wells to Your Highness on this cold and frosty October morning. I trust that you and "Venus Bushfires" are perfectly fine. So too are your glorious Princesses whom I assume are happy and content on this extremely rarely seen early morning. I couldn't sleep well so I've just woken up. A small miracle for me to catch the dew in the hedgerows for lack of a garden. Flat living can be so tiresome. Gardenless and fruitless; sunshine so rare in these parts. It is far too early for me. I am more of a night person, sleeping at dawn and waking at noon if you're lucky. I guess these are the advantages of being a childless man. Regardless of my daily habits, who in Africa cares? I have been thinking about your Opera and what is African Art? It, for me, has become a cozy home, for those that don't quite fit the mold, the misfits and the rejects. Those that want to confront rather than

24/10/2019 Dear King's Scholar Luke, You have run beside me and at times held my hand metaphorically but you have been a great support. What is African Art to me? When I was a child I went to my primary school…First Day, I was given a small bottle of milk with a blue straw…New to me for sure…but I saw the straw and I saw the girl's ear and thought is this straw for that ear? Come on yes of course...it kinda fits…yes it does...makes sense...I don't need the straw, maybe she does?  Maybe she has somehow misplaced hers and I really don't need mine. Yes, maybe she does need my straw afterall...let us see. I had been strategically placed in the high-chair and overlooked the other toddlers. I felt so powerful, an overwhelming sense of unearned privilege. I was seen as important by the group. I had to do something all their eyes where on me. So I reached across and pushed the blue straw into the little girl's ear canal thinking it was meant to be….'The Lady Oldie'…

24/10/2019 Dear Puppanickle, It's been a hard days night but um feeling quite all write. Had another tough two weeks, facing kite-surfing Wendy at the office..."Windy-Wendy"..Thatz what we 'Kool Kids' call-her. Let me share with you an'ickle Jackanory 'bout my hard-working weak...... And back to the writing, back to the rhythm. The sounds of the Underground, the blasts from the past, slowly waking up to join me in my-writing.  Adjust can't sleep, too excitedO. Me be me, wear me is free, look, finally let-it-be, as-eye-is clearly accepted. I can dance O, Lieca camel whithers humps, lumps and teddy-bear paws. This feels good. This feels right, like I've been herO....Wwater bumbum.  Just slide on in to the other-side, cultural butterfly spreading her beautiful wings. Neither this nor that can touch me now. I have found my tapping feet, my neck-nodding up and down and side to side hitting every beat.....as I slide on in to the other-side. Where rigid c

Comments from Joe Pollitt as an intro....... "THIS IS NOT GOOD FOR AFRICA....NO GOOD...THE ARTISTS ARE ALL FALLING INTO COLONIAL TRAPS...BLEACHED FOR A WHITE ART MARKET...HOW IS THIS AFRICAN ART? NO....NO..NO THIS IS JUST NOT RIGHT...IN FACT, IT IS DISHONEST! It must be understood that South Africa is an entity unto itself. The people of South Africa do NOT look up to Africa, they look up to Europe and the US. They are totally obsessed with qualifications; most have MFAs, PhDs even.....they have all been played for years. They are the children of the "Abused"...these Artists can hardly reflect a complex Continent as Africa. In their minds they are NOT African....they are struggling to find what they are....but the answers do NOT lie in the corridors of formal Colonial Institutions and between the pages of exam sheets. The artists are just paying lip service to the old regime. Has anybody seen the TOWNSHIP ARTISTS? This is where the life blood of South Afric