The week that was: Spring Day, Bey Day and everything in between
Spring, last week, came with a confetti of quotes, memes and moods competing against one another for the cool. It came with a partial eclipse which should have been a rare citing but was really an underwhelming chip off the sun. I expected a little more than that from the sun on the first days of summer, but, in nature’s defence, some did say they spotted a decent eclipse in places like Limpopo, Mafikeng and other areas that may as well be closer to the sun.
It just means, quite emotionally, that spring has arrived with a new bag of recycled pressures and old stuff to panic about.
Like Chris Brown’s troubled past coming back to haunt him in recent arrest. Someone else is accusing the Loyal singer of assault again. He says he’s being set up and I’m not so sure I believe that.
Something else that has me in disbelief and weary is the hair debate in the wake of the Pretoria Girls High protest. The skewed hair debate that misses the point and begets misogynoir because: Hoteps.
In case you missed this bit of news, the late Mother Teresa has been declared a saint by Pope Francis at the Vatican. Teresa of Calcutta has been canonised and made holy after having spent her life fighting and ending poverty in places like India. But many of her critics on Twitter don’t buy it. Mother Teresa herself is being accused of not being a good woman and colluding with dictators for funding.
Spring day also fell on this month’s installment of First Thursdays. An invite to the launch of the voguish Mesh Club at the newly opened TRUMPET in the Keyes Art Mille made its merry way into the inbox right on time.
Walking into the space you’re met by pieces of Mohau Modisakeng in a string of disarming portraits. I suppose they work well in the curated space. They work better than that. The emphasis on visual art and design is finished and perfect. I don’t want to touch anything. With a glass of something in my hand and a crowd of seemingly important people’s murmurs, I want to drown out the moment’s influences and come to terms with the figure in the images. But I can’t and I promise to come back in the clearer light of day.
Above us is Archbishop Desmond Tutu suspended in the air holding onto a chandelier and I’m bored by the effigy. The portrayal seems merely created as a conversation starter and Tutu being hung out to dry like that feels problematic for me. Ignoring that though, I try to keep an open mind and traipse upstairs to the main do.
Mesh Club had every potential to be pretentious, and for someone who believes in art being accessible, this movement had me a little conflicted. As an exclusive membership club however, Mesh does famously. I enjoyed the innovative use of the space. It spoke to the liker-of-things in me. I will be going back one of these Friday nights.
Finally, the world got into formation and celebrated Bey Day on Sunday. Leader of the Beyhive turned 35 and there wasn’t a profile picture missing her face. Serious high-teas, din-dins and moments of twirling-on-haters were observed in her honour across the planet. It makes you wonder whether Beyoncé has more fans than Mother Teresa. Happy belated birthday to Bey.