Can a picture sell a thousand songs? GWEN ANSELL reports on the makeshift state of South African CD cover design, and some fresh new ideas
ITS enemies claim that South African mass- market pop all sounds the same. Even its fans can’t deny that it all looks the same. Check out the serried ranks of cassettes by the taxi stop. Paul Ndlovu, deep-etched in half- profile against sludgy green. Phuza Khemisi, deep-etched in half-profile against faded blue. Johnny Mokhali in a white suit — in half profile, deep-etched.
A few full portraits, bordered in tones either dull or lurid. For the very latest, ethno-tacky design incorporating triangles and squiggles in mismatched primaries, often paired with unlikely animal skins. CDs, where they exist, fare little better.
Turned around, these covers are equally unpromising: no credits, little or no artist information, mis-spelt words and a listing bearing only a distant relationship to the real running order. Mzwakhe Mbuli’s latest album cover got it so wrong last week that even The Star’s reviewer complained.
Yet designers who try to break the mould find it tough. Hedwig Barry — designer of Tananas’s Unamanacua — workshopped intensively with the band to find the right image. “We wanted something which used contemporary South African iconography,” she says, “without the Afro-clichs.”
The result is stunning. In strong blacks, reds and yellows, a Lion matchbox, a domestic worker’s gloves, plastic bucket and Sunlight soap, a snarling guard dog (“Actually, she’s yawning,” says Barry), a Rizla pack and a loaf of Ekapa bread assert a quirky, distinctive South Africa. But Barry had to go through what she mildly calls “a long process of negotiation” before the Gallo label accepted her concept.
“I think Gallo deserves praise for finally being flexible and taking on something new,” she says. “I’ve worked with other companies that simply wouldn’t listen at all.”
Before agreement, Barry was faced with a barrage of counter-arguments “mostly from people with no background in design.” Gallo queried placing “low-value” products like matches on the cover. They said branded products should pay to be featured. They suggested the images were “too localised; not internationally acceptable.” Finally, they retreated to “But we always use the artists’ faces — or real ethnic images.”
“… Whatever they are,” comments Barry. “As with the music itself, what will be most internationally acceptable is a unique South African identity. And, particularly today, that involves developing something that is not clichd; not neatly fitted into categories, racial or otherwise.”
Independent record company Tic Tic Bang established its own design arm in the process of rescuing Urban Creep’s latest album from what art director Mallory de Kock calls the “awful, wholly inappropriate” design concept generated by a mainstream cover designer. “This album was a lot darker in tone than the previous one,” says de Kock. “We needed a design equally dark, to echo the music in the graphics. That whole way of thinking is foreign to mainstream sleeve design, which is characterised by a total lack of daring.”
One record company A&R man, who preferred not to be named, was bemused by this desire for innovation and daring. “The important thing is product recognition. You can’t do anything too fancy; people are not used to it. And for traditional music, many of the rural buyers don’t read — so you have to show the artist’s picture.”
That’s typical, feels De Kock of the “mindless, un-researched assumptions made by the music industry about what the South African public wants. It’s appallingly patronising.”
Even photographers, who might be expected to welcome cover portrait commissions, don’t agree. Freelancer Peter McKenzie, who’s done commission work for a number of record companies, feels that “currently, record companies don’t place any value on the photographer’s artistic judgment or input. They call on a photographer at the last minute, set up the artists against a white background somewhere — and produce endless, boring covers.”
McKenzie points out that the Professional Photographers’ Association of South Africa (PPSA) evaluates the photographic input to a product launch as at least 10 percent. “But what we’re normally paid doesn’t even amount to one percent. And we’re not involved in the creative process. We need to hear the music, learn about the artist as a person, understand the album concept, advise on clothes, makeup and the best siting for the picture. Then, even if they want portraits, we could at least create images which actually say something about the album and don’t make racist assumptions about black music buyers’ taste.”
As Tananas demonstrated, artists would also like a say in the process. Kerry Friedman, the band’s manager, says: “We got the cover we wanted in part because the whole band worked for it. Musicians must realise they can take the initiative.”
For Barry, there are important lessons from her experience with Gallo. “The South African music industry still needs a greater degree of openness to new ideas. And it needs something it’s never had before: an infrastructure that helps external collaborations to work. You can, after all, get great promo out of a good sleeve.” De Kock agrees: “I’ve worked in music retailing for years. A good cover always makes a difference.”