Off the wall: Art installer Bafana Zembe and his team at Nazo Arts and Projects are responsible for hanging exhibitions in galleries. (Photo supplied)
I had gone to see the I Put My Hand On My Chest exhibition at Constitution Hill when a fellow art reporter introduced a whole lot of people, all at once.
In spaces like these, you quickly learn to adapt to the social choreography — there are huggers and hand shakers, so I went ahead and responded accordingly.
Among this sea of faces, I met Bafana Zembe. He introduced himself as an art installer. His words hung in the air for a moment.
An art installer?
I frequent galleries, attend exhibition openings, and am deeply embedded in the art world, yet I had never stopped to think about who actually puts the work on the walls.
We focus on the art itself, the artist who conceptualised it, and the curator who contextualises it.
But the person who carefully hangs each piece? They are invisible.
Truth be told, I always imagined the artists putting up the works themselves, perhaps with the help of the curator and a couple of close friends. This lazy thought makes me laugh now.
But here was Zembe, with a title and profession that seemed rare, almost elusive, in the South African art space.
I wondered aloud, “How many people do what you do?”
He smiled, the kind of smile that suggests there’s a long story behind the answer. “Not many,” he replied.
And so began the tale of a man who is crucial to how we experience art but rarely gets mentioned.
“A bit of background,” Zembe started, his voice steady and reflective. “My name is Bafana Zembe, born and raised in Soweto — Meadowlands. I grew up during a violent time in the townships, during the state of emergency. It was rough.”
His words transported me to a different time, painting a vivid picture of his childhood in a country on the brink of change.
Despite the political turmoil, Zembe held onto dreams shaped by what little he knew of the world outside Soweto.
“When I was doing matric, people came to our school for career guidance. They spoke about becoming a chartered accountant and how much one could earn.
“It wasn’t about passion, it was about the number they mentioned. I just saw all our problems at home getting solved.”
But his dreams of accounting were short-lived. His parents couldn’t afford the fees for him to pursue that career. And fate, it seems, had other plans for him.
“A friend of mine introduced me to the late Alfred Khumalo, better known as Alf Khumalo, the photographer. He had archives at his house in Diepkloof and he’d let us go through them.
“That’s where the spark for art and photo archives stems from,” Zembe explained, his voice carrying a smile.
Khumalo didn’t just introduce him to art, he taught him how to see.
“He gave us analogue cameras and showed us how to operate them. This must have been around 2004.”
This hands-on introduction to visual storytelling was a seed that would later grow into a career Zembe never imagined existed.
With his interest piqued, he applied for a heritage learnership at Museum Africa in Newtown, Joburg.
“We were taught about heritage practice. It gave me a deep connection with history.
“I started connecting dates to the photographs Khumalo showed us—images of pivotal moments in South African history.
“We learned about figures like Steve Biko and Robert Sobukwe — people who are often left out of the education system.”
The learnership was a stepping stone, guiding him through the maze of heritage and history.
But the question still lingered: How did he become an art installer?
“I got employed at The Market Photo Workshop in Newtown. I was a project assistant, part of the projects team. That’s when I started installing exhibitions,” he explained.
It was a matter-of-fact statement, but the weight of it was significant. He didn’t just hang art, he made sure it was seen.
For many of us, the idea of putting up art is simple — hammer in a nail and hang the frame. But Zembe corrected this naive notion.
“The role of an installer is quite complex. You have to think about the types of paper, frames, how to handle the artwork and how to physically put it on the wall. There are measurements involved.”
He broke it down for me.
“There’s an average height for everyone, which is 150cm from the ground. It’s so that whether you’re tall or short, you can see the artwork without straining.”
Suddenly, what had seemed like a menial task felt like a meticulous craft.
By 2015, Zembe had mastered this craft enough to be able to turn it into a business.
“I registered my company, Nazo Arts and Projects, because I didn’t know many people doing what I do.”
Nazo Arts and Projects has since installed exhibitions at the Market Theatre Foundation, the National Arts Festival in Makhanda and Constitution Hill, to name a few.
Zembe doesn’t do it alone.
“I work with a team, usually visual art students. I knew I needed to do skills transfer, so I started teaching them art installation. They call themselves the Imbewu Collective.”
His voice swelled with pride: “I’m confident with them. If I’m not around, I send them to do installations. People even reach out to learn from me because universities don’t teach how to hang artwork.
“It’s an important skill. You can survive anywhere because there’s art everywhere in the world.”
Beyond the technicalities, Zembe spoke of the absorption of stories.
“In 2022, I was installing an exhibition called Marikana: 10 Years On in Makhanda. I was just hanging the show but the images moved me.
“I saw the faces of the widows who attended the opening. It touched me in a way I still can’t explain.”
He went on, his voice heavy with emotion: “We also did an exhibition in Mbombela of the late jazz musician Ray Phiri. It was significant because his wife wanted people to see he was more than just his music. Being part of that was an honour.”
As I listened, I realised how little we acknowledge people like Zembe. He’s the one who ensures we see art the way the artist intended, who creates the space for us to engage with it.
Yet, we rarely speak his name.
For those who are considering this career, Zembe has simple advice: “You have to care about what you’re doing. It’s about preserving stories for future generations.”
I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. The next time I walk into a gallery, I’ll look at the walls a little differently. Behind every perfectly hung piece is someone like Zembe — an artist in his own right, crafting experiences for us all.