Sven Christian [SC]: Let’s start with the current work in Poplar. 

Simon Moshapo Junior [SMJ]: I normally use Leadwood or Oak, even Yellowwood. I don’t plan my work. When I look at wood there’s always a connection, so there’s no need to sketch it out in advance. Whatever I need to do, I listen. The work is a result of a conversation between me and the wood — the spirit. I see wood as spiritual. My work is a combination of spirit, creative thinking, and skill. The spirit is the main component. I believe wood carries the spirits of those who lived, who were not given a chance, or who lived more than once. I believe in oral stories, too. I grew up listening to my elders. These spirits lived, but were not able to do what they were supposed to, hence they are able to connect to me. My role is more like that of a mediator. When I create a sculpture somebody will come and connect with it, because the spirit in that piece was supposed to heal people, but did not fulfil that gift. In that way, they connect with me, and I bring them back the way they want. I don’t have to plan or add anything to what they want to say. I allow them to speak. The only thing I do is come up with the titles, which are always Venda proverbs — values, morals… 

Growing up, my grandmother used to speak about the ‘Ngoma lungundu’ story. I won’t say it’s a myth. I believe in oral stories; it’s not something that I have to go read about. I take it from my elders. They used to have this magical drum that had powers. It could bring rain when they needed it. When they had enemies, they would play it and the enemies would fall asleep… So, they always spoke about how they lost that Ngoma, which I look at as a metaphor for my culture, which is fading away. By using those proverbs I’m bringing back that which we have lost. It’s a way of preserving my culture, as well as teaching those that do not know. The whole process is very spiritual for me. 

My father is a sculptor. He took me to study fine art at TUT. After graduating I went to work in Pretoria. I did not believe in art. I did not see it as something I can work with, because I always wanted to be a teacher. In the village, they believe that when you are a teacher or nurse you are good. You can live your life. I was also sick. Even before I graduated, I had epilepsy. I was always in hospitals. I used to get social grants. I was sick, to the point where it was more like I’m mad. Eventually I went to a traditional healer, who healed me. They said I needed to wear these things [gestures to bangles on wrists]. Now I’m completing the initiation. My gift is more spiritual then what I learned in school — the art history, you know? Yes, I’m fascinated and I love Surrealism — Salvador Dali — but I approach my work in my own way; allowing it to speak to me. That’s it. I always fight not to change what the piece is saying, because I believe there is a message that is intended for someone. The person who loves the piece is the one that the spirit wants to connect with. 

SC: Do you find that with other materials too?

SMJ: It’s specifically wood. I graduated in sculpture and printmaking, but I don’t really connect with printmaking in the same way. Right now I also paint, but all my paintings are connected to the sculptures. For each sculpture there is a painting. Instead of painting from, say, a model — what I see — I’ve developed a style from the wood that allows me to connect.

Mukapi wa tshisima asi munwi watsho (2023) is a series that I made. The Venda proverb in the title translates to, ‘The one who prepares the well is not the one to drink from it.’ In this series I was talking about leadership, whereby those who elect leaders don’t always get what they wanted from them. I started working on it last year, and it was exhibited at Latitudes Art Fair, through Kalashnikovv Gallery. 

SC: Does the proverb come before or after the work? 

SMJ: The first thing that comes is me connecting with the wood. The proverb goes with the story in the piece, because if I first say, ‘Ok, I’m going to carve according to this proverb,’ it means that I will be forcing the wood. My father always said, ‘You don’t fight with a piece of wood.’ I just take my tools and listen to the sound of it, and things come. When I carve, one golden rule is that I always have to reach the middle, even if it’s relief. It has to go in. I have to touch the heart of the wood. It’s a golden rule, but the story is there, so there’s no need to fight the wood. I just have to listen to it. The spirit in that piece knows exactly where it’s going to end up. It knows who it is going to connect with. There will always be somebody who will come and love it. It’s because they connect with it, and that connection is always beyond just looking, like seeing the inside of it. The spirit can be anything. 

SC: You mentioned oral histories, the spiritual, and yourself as the conduit, as well as these proverbs, which you include retrospectively. Is that to tie it more directly to your culture?

SMJ: Yes, that is oral history. When you grow up, they always speak to you in this way. For me, a proverb is more about morals — it’s like our Bible. Every story is there. There’s a proverb for whatever I’m going to find in the wood, so the best way for me to speak about it is through those proverbs. 

SC: How do you decide whether you’re going to paint the wood? 

SMJ: The painted works are more recent. It started with the Mukapi wa tshisima series — the one about leadership. That’s when I started bringing in colours. Especially the use of blue, which for me is more like water. It’s a way for me to bring you into this world, to keep this thing alive — something long forgotten, something that people don’t look at, think of as witchcraft, or don’t understand; to say, this how our people used to do this. People won’t understand it, so let me give it something nice. How do I reconnect the roots to the stem, the stem to the branch? The branches are like the new generation. They are not like those that came before. They have their own way of understanding, so if you want to convey such messages you need to bring in something that they will be familiar with. Colour is something that they know. They see it in their everyday. These are the colours that are worn, so it will be much easier for me to pull them, to say, ‘Ok, come and listen to the story of your grandfather.’ Rembuluwani ni sedze makhulu wanu — ‘Turn around and look at your granny, who gave birth to your father.’ 

SC: Have you already thought of an appropriate proverb for the work you’re making now?

SMJ: I’m waiting for it to be finished, but the story is already there. Up there is a big head, and down there is a bone — we call it Ndaola. Like when you consult a healer, who will throw the bones. When you have a spiritual calling, here’s a stage where they give you your bones. That one is something that happened to me already. I went to town, and just next to Shoprite, where you don’t expect to see this, in a shopping complex, I looked down and saw this bone. Unfortunately I was not yet into this thing. I used to be that person who was too much into church, who believed in some other stuff. When I saw that bone I thought somebody had thrown their things — if I pick it up it’s witchcraft, something will come into me. Afterwards, when I was on my way home, I started… It was more like I was sleeping. This thing came and I was like, ‘Yoh, I saw this thing.’ I went and told my mother, who is a healer. When I told her she said I was supposed to take it, because this is how they give you your bones. So this piece is more about that load you carry. In this journey, whether you accept or not, it’s something that if you don’t accept you get sick. They just choose you and that’s it. So this piece speaks about the load of the elders, of our ancestors… This gift that they have, the way they used to help people. Whatever they didn’t complete, they will always choose someone to complete their thing. So ja, this thing of wood. Just like what Mr Maswanganyi, I’m from that kind of lineage whereby my father is a wood sculptor.