Last week my friend Chris and I went on a Soweto art tour with Toura Travel Therapy, a.k.a. Jozi art guide Thabo the Tourist. I’ve had countless wonderful cultural experiences in Soweto over the years (see here and here and here), but up until now I had never done a Soweto tour focused specifically on art. Thabo’s Soweto Art Tour was the perfect way to introduce Chris — a world traveler who had just arrived in Joburg for the first time — to the city.
Chris and Thabo outside Senzo Nhlapo’s house (more on Senzo in a minute). Chris is holding Batty, her stuffed bat who has traveled with her to all seven continents.
Thabo Modise grew up in Soweto and started his tourism career running an art and souvenir shop on Vilakazi Street. He now leads art tours all over Joburg and has connections with many of the city’s leading artists. But you don’t have to be an art connoisseur to enjoy Thabo’s tours — he has a knack for telling the story of South Africa’s history, culture, and people through the lens of art.
The Soweto Art Tour
Chris and I met Thabo and his colleague, Kagiso Moche of Sowetoo Tours, at a coffee shop next to the Hector Pietersen Museum on Vilakazi Street. (I specifically requested a tuktuk tour because tuktuks are more fun than cars. Kagiso was our tuktuk driver and also provided cultural and historical insights along the way.)
Thabo and Kagiso with the tuktuk, which was painted by Senzo Nhlapo.
Kagiso provides a brief history of the 1976 Soweto Uprising in front of the Hector Pieterson Museum.
From Vilakazi Street, we piled into the tuktuk and headed off to visit some artists.
First visit: Lerato Motau
Our first stop was the studio of Lerato Motau. Lerato’s studio is on a particularly interesting street, Nkungu Street, in Orlando West.
An layered Soweto view — historic matchbox houses, a passenger train, and gold mine dumps — from Nkungu Street.
Lilian Ngoyi, a prominent anti-apartheid activist, once lived on Nkungu Street. I love this memorial in front of her house — Lilian was a skilled seamstress and designed the uniforms for the ANC Women’s League.
This house, owned by an enthusiastic Orlando Pirates fan, is a famous local landmark.
I enjoyed the Soweto Art Tour from the start. But the moment we stepped across the threshold of Lerato’s studio, I knew I was going to LOVE this tour. Lerato is a “fiber artist” who makes beautiful images using a wide array of fabrics and embroidered yarn and thread. Her studio is a kaleidoscope of bright colors; walking in there made me feel immediately happy and alive.
Lerato welcomes us into her studio.
One of my favorites.
Lerato is currently working on a series of portraits, all in various shades of pink, of important men in her life.
Lerato is going to be part of a group show at Ellis House on 5 September — details are here.
I loved talking to Lerato and I could have spent the entire afternoon in her studio alone. But we had several more stops to make.
Second visit: Senzo Nhlapo
If you live in Joburg, you’ve probably seen Senzo Nhlapo’s distinctive eyes and faces staring down at you from walls across the city. His work is everywhere, especially in Soweto.
Senzo in his studio in Orlando West. Senzo’s alias is SenzArt911 — 911 used to be his house number.
I was interested to learn that Senzo was a print-maker before he was a painter.
Thabo enjoying the art.
I’ve been a fan of Senzo’s for years but had never met him before — Chris was amused by how I shamelessly fan-girled him.
Fan-girling. I really love Senzo’s paintings, especially the small ones…I’m now wondering why I didn’t buy one.
In addition to making some of Joburg’s most iconic street art, Senzo is a such a nice, funny, gentle guy. Again, I wish we could have stayed longer.
Third visit: Kenny Nkosi
I was enchanted by all of the places we went on this tour. But Kenny Nkosi‘s studio at the Mofolo Art Centre surprised me the most. I struggled to keep my jaw from hitting the floor in Bra Kenny’s studio.
Kenny Nkosi in his studio at the Mofolo Art Centre.
Bra Kenny’s work defies description…”Sculpture” is far too tame a word for it. Kenny collects discarded materials — mannequins, broken TVs, old shoes, clothing, toys, plastic bottles, combs, car parts, and a thousand other everyday objects — and glues them together to make magical life-sized figures, which he spray-paints in silver, gold, or copper. He also makes wall art pieces that look like paintings but are actually made from recycled fabric.
I’m doing a terrible job of explaining Bra Kenny’s work. It’s awe-inspiring and must be experienced in person.
Sculptures by Bra Kenny. They look like they could come alive and start walking around at any moment.
Another thing I can’t adequately explain is what a lovely presence Bra Kenny has. Hanging out in his studio was a joy.
I keep thinking about how interesting it would be to follow Bra Kenny around for a month and document everything he does. I’m filing this idea away for future reference.
Fourth Visit: Eyethu Heritage Hall
I’ve been to the Eyethu Heritage Hall a couple of times and included it in my blog last year. Once Soweto’s first and only black-owned movie theatre, Eyethu was founded by the legendary Tshabalala family. It’s now a shopping center, museum, and monument to Soweto’s cultural history.
The facade of Eyethu Heritage Hall, formerly the Eyethu Cinema. Eyethu means “it is ours” in isiZulu. The mural was painted by — you guessed it — Senzo Thlapo.
Inside Eyethu Heritage Hall, Thabo describes the history of the Tshabalala family.
Eyethu Heritage Hall is a tourist attraction in its own right — you could spend an afternoon there learning about Soweto’s performing arts scene in the second half of the 20th century.
After our visit to Eyethu, we headed back to Vilakazi Street in the tuktuk and then Chris and I said goodbye to Thabo and Kagiso. I was sad for the day to end. This was one of the best Joburg tours I’ve done in a long time and I highly recommend it for either locals or first-time visitors to Soweto.
Thabo’s Soweto Art Tour runs for three hours and costs R1430 (about $90) per person. You can book the tour at touratraveltherapy.com. I participated as part of a media exchange with Toura Travel Therapy; opinions expressed are mine.
Discover more from 2Summers
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
When the flush of a newborn sun fell first on Eden’s green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mold;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves: “It’s pretty, but is it Art?”
Wherefore he called to his wife and fled to fashion his work anew—
The first of his race who cared a fig for the first, most dread review;
And he left his lore to the use of his sons—and that was a glorious gain
When the Devil chuckled: “Is it Art?” in the ear of the branded Cain.
They builded a tower to shiver the sky and wrench the stars apart,
Till the Devil grunted behind the bricks: “It’s striking, but is it Art?”
The stone was dropped by the quarry-side, and the idle derrick swung,
While each man talked of the aims of art, and each in an alien tongue.
They fought and they talked in the north and the south, they talked and they fought in the west,
Till the waters rose on the jabbering land, and the poor Red Clay had rest—
Had rest till the dank blank-canvas dawn when the dove was preened to start,
And the Devil bubbled below the keel: “It’s human, but is it Art?”
The tale is old as the Eden Tree—as new as the new-cut tooth—
For each man knows ere his lip-thatch grows he is master of Art and Truth;
And each man hears as the twilight nears, to the beat of his dying heart,
The Devil drum on the darkened pane: “You did it, but was it Art?”
We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a surplice-peg,
We have learned to bottle our parents twain in the yolk of an addled egg,
We know that the tail must wag the dog, as the horse is drawn by the cart;
But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old: “It’s clever, but is it Art?”
When the flicker of London’s sun falls faint on the club-room’s green and gold,
The sons of Adam sit them down and scratch with their pens in the mold—
They scratch with their pens in the mold of their graves, and the ink and the anguish start
When the Devil mutters behind the leaves: “It’s pretty, but is it art?”
Now, if we could win to the Eden Tree where the four great rivers flow,
And the wreath of Eve is red on the turf as she left it long ago,
And if we could come when the sentry slept, and softly scurry through,
By the favor of God we might know as much—as our father Adam knew.
– The Conundrum of the Workshops by Rudyard Kipling (1890)