My Mecca

Far, far south – and far away from everywhere – this ‘Mecca’ was built by Helen Martins in the tiny village of Nieu Bethesda in the dusty Karoo.

It has little to do with Makkah, the holiest city in Islam, a place she’d never visited. But it has everything to do with my own ‘Mecca’ which isn’t a place at all...

In 1945, ‘Miss Helen’ began building her ‘Mecca’, transforming her home using cement and wire, pieces of glass and plastic, and finely crushed glass which she used to coat the brightly painted walls and ceilings. Later, with the help of assistants, she built over 300 sculptures in her garden of owls and camels, and other animals and figures, almost all facing east.

I can only imagine how laughably crude and strange – and maybe even a little nightmarish – her fantastic creations must have seemed to the conservative Christian villagers, inspired as the sculptures and murals were by the Bible but also by the poetry of Omar Khayyam and the work of William Blake.

Under Apartheid, her collaboration and friendship with her assistants, especially Koos Malgas, a farm labourer from the so-called ‘coloured’ community, only added to her own Afrikaner community’s disapproval and mistrust.

Although the reclusive ‘Miss Helen’ had little to do with the villagers, once a year she would invite them into her home, every mural and all the mirrors and brightly coloured windows illuminated by dozens of lanterns and candles.

However, in 1976, at the age of 78 she took her life. No one knows for sure why she did it. Her home, known as ‘The Owl House’, fell into disrepair but in 1996 became a museum and national monument, and is now visited by the curious and appreciative from around the world.

As a teen, I was deeply moved by Athol Fugard’s play The Road to Mecca which is based on the life of Helen Martins and had been drawn to ‘The Owl House’. But, finally getting to visit years later as a student teacher with a group of teens, it wasn’t so much the place that inspired me after all – it was the imagination, determination and hope of the untrained artist behind it.

And, of course, the hours and hours of creative activity which transformed her home and garden into this unique ‘Mecca’...

You can read more about Helen Martins and 'The Owl House' on Wikipedia. And about The Road to Mecca at http://litmed.med.nyu.edu. And if you'd like to find about more about Nieu Bethesda: http://www.nieu-bethesda.com.

Glimpses

I used to think my work wasn't pleasing enough – that it would never be chosen to go up on display in the foyer at school – and it often wasn't. And once, when we had a visitor to the school, it ended up in the darkest corner of the room – behind the art room door! (However, since figure drawing only ever involved fully-clothed models and any nudity – or semi-nudity – in our art works was frowned upon, I can only smile at the memory and appreciate that it was put up at all).

Well, there's no nudity here – just some glimpses of the kinds of things I found beautiful, startling, powerful and, I hoped, just a little bit defiant when I was growing up.

Adieu

My favourite teacher, when I was at school, was my art teacher.

I don’t know if she would remember me, so many years later, but I haven’t forgotten her.

She only taught me for two years, when I was one of her ‘leetle leetle Std 6s’ and then one of her ‘leetle’ bigger Std 7s (in Grades 8 and 9), but the interest she took in me and my work made all the difference, especially at a time when my own interest in my school work was flagging.

She seemed to delight in each of us, her artists, in our mischief as much as our imaginations. And I think we, at a rather rigid and old-fashioned girls’ school, appreciated her impishness and wonder as much as her artistic and teaching abilities...

This was her farewell to us...

As a teacher now myself, I’ve since found out how hard it can be to say goodbye to students – but also how much easier it is to stay in touch.

We may have gone our separate ways, but I like to think that we may still meet up again, my past students and I, somewhere in the world – in the UAE perhaps, or Bahrain, Turkey, Pakistan, the US, Canada, the UK, Australia, Japan... That our farewell was more an au revoir than an adieu...

So...

Till we meet again...

Later...

Drawing games

I taught my niece this game when she was very little. She’s eleven now and she still loves it – she gets everyone drawing, especially when she sleeps over during the holidays. 

Take a piece of paper and fold it in half, then in half again. The first person to draw draws the head and neck, the second person draws the upper body down to the waist, the third draws the hips and thighs, and the last draws the calves and feet. Each person folds back their drawing so that the next person doesn’t see it and at the end someone – in our family always the youngest! – unfolds the piece of paper to see what kind of crazy creature’s been created.

I love that she can still have so much fun – despite all the TV shows and computer games competing for her attention – with a scrap piece of paper and coloured pencils...

Ludicrous

Today is Nelson Mandela’s 94^th birthday.

Twenty-four years ago, 72 000 people attended a concert at Wembley in London to celebrate Mandela’s 70^th birthday. I wonder how many of the thousands of people at the concert, or watching it at home, would have imagined – or dared to hope – that Tata Madiba, as he is affectionately known to so many South Africans, would still be the father of a democratic South Africa well into his nineties. And that his birthday would have become an annual international day (known as Mandela Day) on which to honour his commitment to justice and equality in South Africa.

As a teen in South Africa, I could only read about the concert in Number One, one of my favourite music magazines. However, as Mandela was banned and imprisoned, I wasn’t allowed to see any pictures of him. How ludicrous that I could read about him but not see him – and that someone actually had to black out his face in every copy that was sold in South Africa..!

You have to laugh... and appreciate just how far we’ve come...

Well, at 25 pounds a ticket, the concert raised 3 million pounds for children’s charities in South Africa.

On Mandela Day, we're all urged to give 67 minutes of our time to a charity or to someone in our local community – to take a small step towards improving the lives of others, and arguably our own.

“It always seems impossible,” Mandela once said, “until it’s done.”

What a gift and an inspiration he has been, not only to South Africans, but to so many people around the world.

You can read more about the activities that took place this Mandela Day at: http://www.mandeladay.com

Camera obscura

While in Grahamstown, I took some of my family to the Observatory Museum. Its Victorian camera obscura is the only one of its type in the southern hemisphere and one of only two in the world (the other being in Edinburgh).

A camera obscura is an optical device which predates the camera. The name originates in Latin and refers to a darkened room: camera means “vaulted chamber or room” and obscura means “dark”.

The museum was originally a nineteenth century jeweller’s shop and family home. The original owner and designer of this unusual building, Henry Carter Galpin, was a successful watchmaker and jeweller who constructed the camera obscura in 1882. He was interested in natural history, music, mechanics, astronomy and optics. The museum also includes a Meridian Room where Galpin could ascertain the precise time of local noon (14 minutes behind South African standard time) and a Telescope Room which contains the telescope which was originally installed in the rooftop observatory.

We climbed up a long and very narrow spiral staircase in the highest tower to reach the camera obscura. It works through a system of lenses and a mirror in a revolving turret in its roof and projects a panorama of the city onto a concave viewing surface in the darkened observation room beneath.

It’s fascinating and our guide was knowledgeable and friendly (though the building itself looks in need of maintenance).

This photograph of the image in the camera obscura is not as clear as the image itself. And had it been a sunnier day the image would have been even sharper.

Once locals would set their watches by the time on the clock tower but the clock is no longer working and these days each clock face seems to show a different time..!

You can find out more about the Observatory Museum at http://www.grahamstown.co.za and on Wikipedia.

Back in Bathurst Street

I can’t remember the last time I was in Grahamstown but I went back last week – just for a day – a very cold and windy day..!

But I got a photo of the same view of Bathurst Street that I sketched as an art student years ago.

It was so familiar but of course it’s changed. The building on the corner had been damaged in a fire and had to be restored, and (looking back at my sketch) I noticed the lamp post is gone. And I don’t think that red letterbox was there before – I didn’t include it in my sketch anyway.


But Birch's, the outfitters I'd sat outside sketching, was still there, selling menswear, school uniforms and university robes (for the last 148 years!).

And it was great to see that row of buildings on Bathurst Street still looking clean and bright, and in pretty good condition. And to go back...

Bathurst Street

Birch's

You can see my sketch here: http://daydreamdraggingfeet.blogspot.com/2012/05/down-bathurst-street.html

Larger than life

Ben Okri won the Booker Prize for Fiction for his novel The Famished Road in 1991.

Looking back at the shortlist for that year, I was surprised to discover another of my favourite novels of the Nineties on the list of novels that never made it to the shortlist: Hanif Kureishi’s The Buddha of Suburbia.

But I loved Ben Okri’s story of Azaro, the “spirit child”. Reviewing the novel in the Sunday Times, Angela Carter said: “Azaro’s scary, awesome, hallucinated childhood is a piece of sustained invention that turns out to be glorious...” At around 500 pages, it seems to be a novel readers love or hate – are captivated and can’t put it down or remain unmoved and simply can’t get through it.

The “famished road” of the title is metaphorical and suggests an African nation’s imminent independence and the chaotic and often destructive social, political and technological changes already underway.

It has been diversely characterised as postmodern, post-colonial and magical realist – a label Okri has always rejected. He has said that he draws on realism and philosophy, and traditional African storytelling and beliefs.

These are from a series of illustrations of characters from the novel. I wanted to capture something of their startling and unsettling power, as well as how vividly they came across to me reading the novel.

The first two characters are quite minor. They’re the king’s bodyguards. The king of the spirit world is described as “a great cat with a red beard and eyes of greenish sapphire”. The dashiki  (one of the names for the loose shirt or robe men traditionally wear in West African countries) and kufi (one of the names for the round cap) that the men wear are not very accurate and many of the fabrics are actually far more detailed and beautiful than I’ve imagined. Like many of my sketches at the time, and perhaps suitable to a “fantasy” novel, these weren’t done in a realistic, but in a naive style.

And this is Madame Koto and the boxer who Azaro’s dad takes on. The very heavy and larger than life Madame Koto almost makes the boxer appear skinny. The local bar owner, Madame Koto introduces electricity to the community. She is generous but vain, powerful and increasingly corrupt.

You can read more about Ben Okri's writing at: http://literature.britishcouncil.org and http://www.thenewcanon.com (and on Wikipedia). Or you can pick up the novel...

Matryoshka

I bought this matryoshka or Russian nested doll at a market in Abu Dhabi. These sets of wooden dolls were first carved in Russia in the nineteenth century and the creator was apparently inspired by a Japanese doll, perhaps a daruma. (Though I don’t know who made this particular doll or where it was made.)

Typically the outer doll is a Russian woman in traditional peasant dress but here she is an Arab woman in an abaya – I think this abaya is meant to suggest a traditional burqa worn by older married women (and those in rural areas) in the UAE (and also in Qatar and Oman, and by Arabs in southern Iran). But I don’t think an older and more conservatively dressed woman would wear her abaya open like that – though she may have something as garishly bright and patterned on underneath, who knows..?

Living in the Middle East, I was often surprised at the range of abayas (and other kinds of outer garments that women and girls there wear to cover themselves) and how colourful and intricately patterned they can be.

Perhaps that’s why I like the colours of these – that and the flash of what lies underneath..!

You can find out more about matryoshka and hijab on Wikipedia.

A little vampire

This little vampire was created by one of my students who was a whiteboard whizz and crazy about manga and anime.

She created a few of these chibi over the three years I taught in the Middle East – at break or at the end of the day, crowded round by a group of younger girls, oohing and aahing their approval.

This little vampire stayed up for weeks and weeks as I was under strict instruction from my form not to erase it. One of my quietest students, always doodling during lessons herself, took it upon herself to personally guard our classroom chibi against any colouring in or scribbles, checking at the end of each day and carefully erasing any mischief-making.

Much later, after I’d left the school, I thought I’d give her something in return. I’d never drawn any manga and wouldn’t have known where to begin but I thought I’d have a go, using her characters to guide me, just for fun. So this is my attempt.

And I had such fun with it that weekend, my niece (who was nine at the time) and I sitting drawing characters for hours together. Who knew what a doodle would lead to?

(And, since all that doodling has lead to my whiteboard whizz studying multimedia design this year, I look forward to seeing what else it leads to...)

Very, very thank you!

Anyone who has taught English in Japan (especially at junior or senior high) would have ended up with a pile of these: thank you messages from students. I worked as an ALT (Assistant Language Teacher) on the JET (Japan Exchange and Teaching) Programme for two years and loved it – it was the best start for a teacher with little experience (participants actually need none and no teaching qualifications) because it involved so much creative and energetic teaching, a lot of interaction and very little marking!

These were written by some of my first grade students at Ojima Junior High in Nagaoka where I was based for two years. I had met them when they were still at elementary school so knew them well and they were a genki bunch – they got on very well with their young Japanese teacher and were always keen to take part. I really enjoyed my lessons with them.

And these are some of the comments students made on a thank you card I received at another junior high where I filled in for a few months. Although I was only there a short time (so short I seem to have forgotten its name!), I remember this school as one of my favourites. It was much smaller than Ojima and on the outskirts of the city, and I can’t say I was looking forward to simply filling in there as I trudged to school through thick snow from the bus stop down the road on my first day. But I was met with such excitement (I soon found out I was the first woman ALT these students had had), curiosity and enthusiasm that it was impossible not to enjoy my often noisy and sometimes quite boisterous classes.

They were written by some of the third graders I taught. A few students wrote only in Japanese and a few only drew me pictures, but most tried to write their thank yous in English. You can pretty much guess which are from the boys! 

You look very beutiful.

You are teaching a little time. But very interesting.

You are beutiful woman! Thank you!

I want to be like YOU!! So you are very beautiful.

I love you.

You are nice girl!!

Very thank you!!

I wanted to study with you more and more.

I was glad to meet you!!

Good. Very good.

You are good smile!!

You are nice body.

You are GODDESS.

Good for you!!

I am ENGLISH! Thank you.

You are very cute!! 

My favourite is this last one – despite the unfortunate mistake, the boy who wrote this was actually quite good at English, and bright and sharp. I really enjoyed his honesty after so many over-excited compliments...

I was grad to see you. I’m good at English. And I want to study English more and more. I will go to South Africa some day. <- It’s a lie.