At the scene of their initial showing on the exhibition Smokkel, on the fringe of the second Johannesburg Biennale in 1997, Lisa Brice’s ogling beanbags sat, slouched and a little ridiculous, passively watching the slowly changing facial progressions of a forensic identikit computer programme on the television screen before them.
Brice described the piece, entitled Somewhere Over the Rainbow, as ”an ironic reference to the gap between the optimistic expectations and the grim reality of daily life in the new South Africa”. Almost a year-and-a-half later, they have found their way on to the front cover of an extremely sexy and lavish new publication detailing Brice’s dynamic career as an artist, as well as into the relatively safe confines of Cape Town’s Hnel Gallery for an exhibition In the Eyes.
Well, perhaps not that safe. Because this time, instead of the detached threat of the ever-changing suspect on TV, here they sit still dully contemplating blood-smeared scenes of taxi wars and gang violence. They are silent watchers – a ”Joe Public” that is numbed and disengaged. Brice continues to reflect upon the violation of trust and security that infiltrates the daily experiences of living in South Africa. Her work is spiked with cynical wit and comical incision: it is an uneasy combination of absurdity and absurdism as she slices her way cleanly through the thinly veiled myth of domestic security.
The Boyz 2 Men series on exhibition takes further the themes that Brice has developed over a number of years. Deep paranoia and fear become normalised commodities in the home: a family portrait is replaced by a Family Pack shooting target – a naive pseudo- painterly rendition of a family and an intruder, ”used in shooting exercises where the trainee shooter is required to eliminate the criminal whilst avoiding the innocent bystanders”.
A table leg passes through a morbid rite of passage from table to make-shift baseball bat, to potential dangerous weapon. And gone are the days of embroidering proteas after dinner in front of the TV. More familiar icons are the threatening hand signals used by gangs, or the subliminal reminders of imminent threat: ”Alarm on?”; ”Trellidoor locked?”, which become the substitute motifs of home decoration.
This exhibition marks the launch of a 228- page, full-colour, three-language (English, German and Chinese) catalogue which documents the work of Brice from as far back as her high school paintings to her current work. With essays by Sue Williamson and Malcolm Payne, as well as interesting insights and bits of information about the works by Brice herself, this is an intriguing document.
It is unusual to have the opportunity to trace the path of a young and very prolific artist this thoroughly. The book has been put together over the past two-and-a-half years by Brice, and Ellen and Frank Hnel, with whom she has exhibited since 1993, and who have almost entirely funded the project. Brice is in town for a short time before returning to London where she has been since July last year completing a residency at the Gasworks studios.
The book will be relaunched at the Hnel- Galerie, Frankfurt in April, before Brice jets off to join Chris Ofili, among others, to participate in a two-week workshop in Trinidad which will result in a collaborative show to be launched at Art-Frankfurt. All this before she heads off to New York in September. And you thought you got around!
The exhibition is on at the Hnel Gallery, 84 Shortmarket Street, Cape Town until February 27