In case you missed it, It wearies me; you say it wearies you an exhibition by Tatenda Magaisa opened on the 18th of May 2024. It wearies me; you say it wearies you, is the second sentence of the Shakespearean play The Merchant of Venice. This statement reflects the sombre realisation of one’s acceptance of one’s sadness and emphasises the sense of fatigue of modern existence.
Magaisa’s exhibition feels like a walk through the thoughts of an artist and silent reflections made public. Visually the exhibition is disarming a fact that Magaisa acknowledges stating that ” colour creates a narrative map that begins with a restful, yet alluring pull into a calm engagement that draws the viewer slowly pulling into a calm engagement that draws the viewer slowly into a state of otherworldliness and overwhelm” (Magaisa 2024). Truly it is not only Magaisa’s pallet, but the walls adorned with pink that darken from pink to the deepest maroon. A change in tone that marks not only a shift in hue but a change in mood creating a notable feeling of sombreness as you look further.
An aspect that the exhibition could have done better is allowing certain works to breathe. A few of the works could have benefitted from the proper breathing space which is essential to enjoy the works visually, some of which are a struggle to see.
Magaisa’s moving between the practice of working from Sketchbooks and movement from large-scale paintings. This practice in itself feels like a type of heightening of one’s thoughts as a type of affirmation or self-validation which within the thinking about the works and the overall theme of the exhibition is a powerful gesture as both an artist and writer. It’s important to note that Magaisa is a writer, a fact that is made more evident in the use of text in her works. Text or not what seems to emerge is that there is a recurring motif of a character (fictional or otherwise) that is depicted in scenes of isolation or simply with its hands up. This is despite Magaisa stating that her work is not informed by any particular lore.
When asked about the refusal to engage in Shakespearean lore concerning the heading, Magaisa states “I was inspired by a line in a stanza. I went to the play especially because the first two lines have remained in my mind. The show is not about the play. If you want to have a discussion about the links, themes, etc. that’s a whole other type of adventure. It’s possible but that’s up to the viewer honestly and whether they’ve read the play or not.” (Magaisa 2024)By contrast one of the best parts of the exhibition is the video room. A room that houses a massive screen that greets you at the door and once you walk through is further veiled by a multitude of small screens that flash and change as the videos move frame to fame creating its own intimate sense of discomfort. Absorbed in the glow of a sea of screens blinking at you one screen at a time, it’s difficult to not continue reading the large screens. This room houses the work ‘Where else can I go?’ a work that offers an opulent array of grass in pink and red hues within a hazy sandy pink background. From this tall grass, two bleeding hands emerge that seem to reach out of the grass. The type of alienation depicted in this particular work and other works in this exhibition
The video works that Magaisa explains are filmed in different moments such as holidays or trips to meet family a touch that feels like a sort of memory recall of moments in non-industrialised spaces that ” serve as a panacea for our fatigue or a search for silence ” (Magaisa 2024). When asked if there is an element of revisiting memories Magaisa states ”I think so because I found out that there are certain images that pop up time and time again, sometimes I have a kind of obsessiveness when it comes to certain images, like patterns in the sky, doorways and landscapes but desolate empty landscapes even when they have a tiny house they are still kind of very empty. Some of it I think is memories or sometimes it’s like I’m trying to evoke a feeling because for me being able to stand in the middle of no way and have the silence of that environment or being able to make noise in that space is something precious to me” (Magaisa 2024).
Perhaps the most important thing is thinking throw Magaisa’s work and the deployment of painting as a type of escapism. When asked about the role of escapism in her work Magaisa states “When I need to rest I tend to watch or read material that is the extreme opposite of the realities I’m living in. So if its science fiction it’s about imagining the future, if it’s horror its fears that are not even a bit close to my reality, like a demon coming out of a cupboard thing, I mean my fears don’t match that kind of thing there are a bit more real. So I escape to more dystopian imagery that gives me catharsis, especially with the quietness of image making” (Magaisa 2024). A type of escapism that is rooted in the retreat into oneself and the memories Magaisa holds dear and returns to amid fatigue.
This is further emphasised by the text works that were created by Magaisa’s master’s degree work, which further drives home the feeling of escaping through different times. The exhibition contained several works that mark different works that Magaisa has made in the past year contributing to the show feeling a lot like a mini-retrospective.
Despite its immense potential, some of the discussions had at ‘ It wearies me; you say it wearies you’ walkabout about the role of gallery spaces like Johannesburg Art Gallery to open its doors. A discussion I won’t harp on too long however it was interesting to see a black women artist without Gallery representation exhibit.
Tatenda Magaisa’s ‘ It Wearies Me; You Say It Wearies You’ which opened on Sunday, March 16th, will be on show until 29th July 2024 at the Johannesburg Art Gallery.
