A visual feast is what can be expected at the Month of Photography (MOP), an annual event profiling the works of established photographers and newly trained enthusiasts fresh out of photography school.
For the undiscerning, the photographers seem to be exhibiting under one banner — the Month of Photography — but the public is currently enjoying two groups who have not managed to collaborate their efforts.
The other group call themselves Month of People’s Photography. They are also known as the Camissa Collective and consist of hip, young black men who wield cameras as confidently as they pick up women. They have made the MOP organisers very angry by hijacking the name and event to showcase their own images.
Their tactics have ruffled feathers, not only because they have snubbed the formal platform, but because most of them have no formal training in photography, yet they dare to “subject the public” to badly-shot images that have not been approved by the judging panel of the MOP.
Camissa has also managed to by- pass the MOP application fee of R300 a photographer and persuade the trendiest cafes in Long Street to exhibit its images.
But the division in the two groups is more about ownership and whether the cliquey photographic industry is opening itself up to a wider variety of races in Cape Town.
Camissa appeals to a younger generation of upcoming black and coloured youth who want to participate in documenting life.
Its launch party, held in Greenmarket Square, was in sharp contrast to the high-brow MOP function at the Castle, where a plethora of beautiful (white) people milled around the in-your-face works of Zanele Muholi — who celebrates black lesbian sexuality to challenge the dominant media image of non-heterosexuality. It was clear that MOP had become a catalyst in exposing the uncomfortable tension around the transformation of the photographic industry in Cape Town, rather than just being an exhibiting body.
“The story I heard was we turned them down or we ignored an e-mail,” said Geoff Grundlingh, head of MOP, in response to why Camissa was not part of the exhibitions.
“I think it was a smart political move, jumping on the bandwagon.” He said he was upset because Camissa created the impression that the MOP is not representative of “the people” and “the work they are showcasing is not of a high standard”.
Grundlingh said these are not under-privileged photographers and the MOP showcases the work of Umlilo photographers from Langa in support of development photography. “They make us look like a bunch of uncaring snobs and it’s cheeky. But their work is no good.”
The images on display range from contemporary documentaries covering Aids, sexuality and death on the roads to muk-en-druk street shots by Isgak Stemmet.
Perusing some of Camissa’s photographs, I was struck by the works of Yasser Booley, whose self-taught skill has resulted in a powerful exhibition of tuberculosis patients, an intimate look at the life of a petrol attendant and his ride with garbage collectors.
Both groups had images that weren’t really gripping and some of the members of Camissa shouldn’t claim to be photographers just because they took a few pictures at a party on the Cape Flats. But the same goes for some images exhibited by MOP. Despite their technical ability, the content leaned too much towards photographic art, tending to be a collection of self-indulgent works with clever titles.
“Photography is seen by the establishment as a technique where light is controlled through a camera,” said John Fleetwood, head of the Market Theatre Workshop.
“But photography is rather about seeing people.” He said the technical argument of determining what is a good image has been used to exclude those who have no formal training. For him, Camissa members are showing what they see as part of their reality in their space and not according to what established photographers have set up to be “good images”.
Despite the politics, the public has the next two weeks to absorb an abundance of images. One of the highlights is the gut-wrenching, vulnerable images by Julia Tiffin whose exhibition, Lifting the Veil, includes an image of her former partner, called 2 269 Days, which refers to the duration of their relationship. The image is cut in half and the viewers walk through it.
It’s hard to ignore the work of Helmut Rautenbach, who has shot a collection of raunchy pin-up models displaying a great deal of flesh using cupcakes and watermelons as props. The work is obscurely titled The Pin-up Project: Wartime Against Aids. His intention was to shift the depressing focus of photography on Aids to some light interpretation on sexuality, but he loses the audience by having no overt references to Aids in the pictures.
My personal favourite — having had a sneak preview — is an exhibition of images about the domestic lives of six female students from Blackheath Secondary School, aged between 15 and 18, who are part of an exchange programme with Valley New School in Appleton, Wisconsin, United States.
The images show that “if you can see, you can take a photograph”, according to Garth Stead, a freelance photographer. He is one of a group of established photographers volunteering to mentor and support the girls to give back to previously disadvantaged communities. The students’ work will be displayed with that of their American counterparts at the Red Cross Children’s Hospital from March 10 to 31.
The Cape Town Month of Photography runs in various venues until March 20. To obtain posters or a catalogue for R220, contact the Bell Roberts Gallery, Orms, Clarke’s Books, Exclusive Books and selected exhibition venues. For information contact The South African Centre for Photography, 31 Orange Street, Gardens. Tel: (021) 480 7108 or visit www.photocentre.org.za