Take note: Photographer Vuyo Giba specialises in capturing jazz musicians in black and white. Photo: Supplied
In the arts, there are various ways to capture a moment in time and space. Some capture it in movement, others in words, some in sound and others in brush strokes. For Vuyo Giba, photography is her artform of choice to narrate jazz stories through her mighty lens.
After being invited to a musical event in 2012, Giba felt a deep desire to tell people what they were missing out on.
“I knew that writing alone wouldn’t satisfy what the eye sees, and then I got a camera; it could have been a week later, and I never looked back,” she says.
Giba’s work distinctively captures the rural and township life of black communities in black and white. What makes her stand out, however, is her vested interest in capturing and archiving South African jazz musicians and live music.
“Jazz is quite under-documented in South Africa; one needs to bridge the gap and make sure archives are available for future references,” Giba says.
A former resident photographer at Niki’s Jazz Lounge and The Orbit Jazz Club in Johannesburg for over eight years, Giba argues that when she photographs musicians, it goes beyond capturing faces or instruments.
“I’m trying to hold the spirit of that union, the energy that connects them and the emotion that travels through sound into image.”
Though Giba gives praise to Pierre Crocquet’s work which inspired her to tell visual stories in black and white, it is the music and observing musicians that mostly shaped her photography skills.
“I started learning the musicians. So, instead of concentrating on one person, I look at the union of gifts on stage. The many people that are there with one goal only — to bring about the sound, the music, and in so many cases, the healing.
“So, the music itself taught me to see and to listen with my eyes.”
In her creative journey, Giba has come to understand that jazz is healing music.
“I am a healer and, in order for me to heal, I too need to submit to some kind of cleansing.
“Music has done that for me, over the years, I have viewed each musician I have captured as part of my healing journey.”
Beyond attending music events, exhibitions and sitting on panels, Giba tells me about some of her career highlights, sharing intimate moments with jazz legends.
For her first solo exhibition, Ukunyangwa Kwetyala — an ongoing series — Giba invited the late Reverend Patrick Pasha, a saxophonist from the Eastern Cape. Giba says she was in awe of Pasha’s insights into the oral history of jazz in the Eastern Cape and how it connects to the world.
She later sat on a panel with Pasha again, alongside Bra Lex Futshane, Bra Retsi Bule, and Bra Feya Faku.
Such moments, the artist says, affirm and remind her that her work is not just about capturing images or sounds but also a bridging of worlds and generations.
“To share space with those elders, to listen to them, and to have younger musicians in the room learning from them, that was something truly special.
“It felt like we were bridging generations, keeping the flame alive.
“It’s about continuing the dialogue between the past and the present, the elders and the youth, the seen and the felt,” says the Eastern Cape-born photographer.
Giba has captured South African jazz musicians such as Andile Yenana, Phumlani Mtiti, Stompie Manana and Herbie Tsoaeli — to mention a few.
Atmospheric: Vuyo Giba’s image of the late trumpeter Feya Faku at the Mandela Bay Jazz Legacy Festival this year. Photo: VuyoGiba
She was also commissioned to capture images for the cover of Ayanda Sikade’s second album Umakhulu.
One jazz legend Giba has worked with closely, including at the Makhanda National Arts Festival, is the late Feya Faku. The prolific trumpeter, flugelhorn player, composer and teacher passed away in his sleep in Basel, Switzerland, on 23 June, aged only 63.
Giba indicates she had the honour of sitting with the jazz icon, talking about music, the spirit of the horn and the power of listening.
“When Bra Feya Faku passed, I lost more than a subject. I lost a light, a rhythm and a presence that shaped how I saw music through my lens. He wasn’t just another jazz musician to photograph; he was the embodiment of what South African jazz feels like — its humility, its fire, its truth.”
She adds that when the world loses a mighty tree like Feya, we don’t just mourn a musician, we mourn a way of being.
“He was rooted in the soil of this land, yet his sound travelled far beyond it. His kindness, his laughter, his discipline.
“Those are the things I carry with me and those are what I try to preserve through my work.”
“Photographing him wasn’t just work, it was prayer. You could feel his breath in every image, his calm strength in the silences between notes. His passing left a deep stillness in me. But that stillness is also a reminder to continue invoking, to continue telling our stories, to let the lens sing where words sometimes fail.”
Where the world has failed however is to celebrate black female photographers more. George Hallet and Rashid Lombard’s book Jazz: A Female Perspective graciously celebrates prominent female photographers such as Tina Smith, Neo Ntsoma and Ingrid Masondo.
Giba adds to this pool as a contemporary photographer while aware of the challenges in the industry. She’s a member of an international initiative called Women in Jazz Media, whose mandate is to celebrate and recognise female photographers globally.
“Photography is a male-dominated space in South Africa. This automatically puts me, a female, at a position where I am still assumed to be male, to those that have never met me, those that I approach for business, perhaps on email or any form of written communication. This puts you in a position where you constantly have to prove yourself.”
Giba, however, adds she has met great male photographers who have inspired her. “I’ve learned a lot from them. I like that. I like learning. I also have been very inspired by female photographers and just how bold these beautiful women are. The beautiful stories they tell makes me want to be a better person, every day.
“Other than that, anyone can carry a camera — the story is in the heart. Everyone has a story to tell.”
Despite the challenges, Giba is steadfast in her work, rooted in storytelling, archiving and consistent workmanship.
“I am a self-taught photographer and it took a lot of discipline, honesty and integrity. It took being able to listen and being able to know when to have a voice. Sometimes, your voice is enough to be the image.”
To aspiring photographers, especially black female creatives, she concludes by stating “For anyone that wishes to have a voice, stay true to your convictions. Mine was jazz, stage and black and white.
“Respect the work you do, but most importantly, have fun.”