Shimmering Scenes
Billie Zangewa imbues ordinary domestic themes with feminist dignity and the resplendence of silk.
by John A. Parks
The Swimming Lesson by Billie Zangewa embroidered silk, 42 1/8 x 78 3/4 © courtesy Templon, Paris – Brussels
One of the most magical examples of transformation in nature is the production of silk, a process in which the silkworm, really nothing more than a humble larva, produces a lustrous thread, which it weaves into a cocoon in preparation for its metamorphosis into a moth. This thread, harvested and woven, produces a strong, fine fabric with an iridescent sheen that projects a seductive sense of luxury and splendor.
The transformative nature of silk is central to the work of South Africa-based artist Billie Zangewa, who uses a simple appliqué technique to collage pieces of silk into images based on her day-to-day life. Scenes of a figure preparing food for a child in a kitchen, taking a nap by the pool or reading a Sunday newspaper are transformed into gloriously colorful and alluring tableaux. “I explore domestic themes predominantly happening around the home front—or what I like to call ‘daily feminism,’ ” says the artist. “By putting a focus on the things that women do at home that aren’t seen or appreciated or acknowledged, I’m saying this is part of my strength; this is how I keep society moving—with these things that nobody sees me doing.”
At the End of the Day by Billie Zangewa embroidered silk, 53 7/8 x 42 7/8 © courtesy Templon, Paris – Brussels
Working With Silk
Zangewa works exclusively with dup- ion silk, a particularly richly colored and textured fabric made by weaving fine thread in the warp and uneven thread, reeled from two or more entangled cocoons, in the weft. It’s often woven using threads in a variety of colors interspersed with the dominant color of the fabric, increasing its iridescent appearance.
“I actually cannot imagine working with any other textile,” says the artist. “In practical terms, it’s very easy to manipulate, so working with it isn’t a struggle. It meets my obsession with texture, and it has such an incredible history. And how it’s produced! It speaks to me.”
For Zangewa a new work begins with an idea. “Ideas usually come to me based on either feelings, experiences or both,” she says. “I’m inspired by life and its daily unfolding. There are images that I look at and go ‘Wow!’ but my inspiration comes from experience and daily life.” Indeed, the artist avoids spectacular imagery and steers clear of overtly polemic or political images, choosing instead to rely on the strength of bearing witness to the joys and challenges of her life as a woman and mother. She often uses photography to capture raw images and then makes drawings from them to compose a picture, selecting components that most effectively evoke the story she wants to tell and simplifying them into clearly defined shapes. “Ironically, although I spent most of my childhood learning hand-stitching techniques like appliqué, it was paper collage that inspired me to cut fabric,” says the artist. “Instead of using paper and glue, I’m using fabric, needle and thread.”
Zangewa takes her drawing and uses it as a template to cut out the shapes in various colors of silk. In this process the drawing itself is destroyed. Once all the shapes have been cut out, the artist pins them for placement and then stitches them together, using an open technique that leaves the stitching exposed to view. This deliberately rough finish serves to engage the viewer in the process of fabrication, drawing attention to the handiwork of the artist.
This sense is further reinforced by Zangewa’s decision to leave unfinished or missing sections of her images in the final product. Sometimes a corner is missing and sometimes whole sections are left out, their shapes suggesting that the artist originally intended to fill them but then decided not to go ahead. This produces a sense that the work has been somehow set aside before completion, a strategy that creates a mystery for an audience to ponder. “It can be interpreted however the viewer wants,” says Zangewa. “For me, it represents my trauma, my wound or scar. I believe that we’ve all had a negative experience from our past that has left an indelible mark. It also speaks to the part of ourselves that we dare not speak of or reveal to the world, the part of ourselves that we are ashamed of—what I call the perfect in the imperfect.” Confessional as her works sometimes are, the artist suggests that there are things she’s not willing to reveal.
As Zangewa builds her image, she’ll occasionally use passages of embroidery to enrich texture and detail. Adjustments are rare at this stage. “Sometimes I make very small changes, like changing the color of something from what I had originally conceived,” says the artist. “What I’ve come to realize, through trial and error, is that it has to come together in the drawing.” Planned out as the piece is, the artist must still make a decision about where to stop. “The work tells me,” she says. “I usually have a vision in my mind of what a work will look like, but I have to surrender to the process, and so often the final work is not as I’d envisioned it. I actually look forward to the surprise.”
Transformed Scene
The net effect of Zangewa’s approach is to produce a piece in which clear graphic shapes convey strong literal images while incorporating considerable warmth and a degree of distortion that arises from the process she works with. In At the End of the Day, for instance, the artist pictures herself in her kitchen, holding a cup and saucer as she leans against a counter. As with all of her works, the pose of the figure is carefully and acutely described to convey the sense of the piece. In this case it’s a quiet domestic moment, the pleasure and comfort of a cup of tea sipped in the quiet of one’s own home after a day’s work. The artist has been careful to give a clear account of various kitchen accoutrements: electric kettle, blender, sink and electrical plugs. Other details include cabinet door handles and potted plants.
For the flesh of the head and hands, she chose a color break that leads to a somewhat disjointed sense of form—a common effect in collage because of its inherent weakness in rendering the subtle transitions of light and color across flesh. Zangewa substituted a kind of visual excitement, in which brilliant red lights work against deeper browns while the highlights sit out almost white on top of the flesh. Next to these vibrant flesh tones is the white blouse, richly embroidered to re-create the texture of the original garment.
At the bottom of the work, several pieces appear to be missing. What, we wonder, could have been there? The shapes don’t seem to align with any perspective, and it’s hard to imagine what the artist might have originally intended. Those more familiar with Zangewa’s enterprise know that she often works at her kitchen
table and we might imagine that she had originally thought to include an image of her work in progress.
The general richness and shimmer of the silk, the sheer allure of the material, bestows on the piece a sense of something precious, valuable and attractive. A moment has been snatched from the mundane, everyday world, savored, examined and then gloriously transformed.
Building Experience
Zangewa’s quest to draw attention to the daily lives of women and, in particular, women of color, clearly grew out of her long and often difficult quest to achieve independence and become an artist. Born in Malawi and raised in Botswana, in a suburban neighborhood, she was an avid artist as a child and eventually studied art at Rhodes University in South Africa. “My first year was very focused on drawing, and in my second year I specialized in printmaking and learned different techniques of hand printing,” she says. “My favorite was plate lithography. It had a reputation of being difficult, and that drew me to it. The varying textures of paper that I was introduced to awoke my interest in tactility. My professor had an amazing work ethic, and I hope that I took a little bit of that commitment and discipline with me.”
It was an experience that would lead to the artist’s signature work in silk, but becoming a full-time artist wasn’t easy. “I worked hard for many years, and even when it seemed impossible, I never gave up on my dream,” she says. Finding insufficient support for an art career in Botswana, Zangewa moved to Johannesburg, South Africa, where she began from scratch, more or less penniless, before she found work in the fashion industry. “I did just about everything,” she recalls. “I sold jeans in the local Diesel store, where I worked my way up the corporate ladder to marketing manager. I also was a fashion assistant on a freelance basis as well as for a magazine. I did some part-time modeling, and I worked for a TBWA advertising agency as an art buyer on a fashion account. First, I learned how to survive, and overall, I learned a lot about what happens behind the scenes in fashion retail. I found it fascinating and feel so lucky to have gotten a 360-degree view of the industry. Most of all, I learned to never take creative self-expression for granted because, for many years, I had to put my dreams on hold in order to take care of myself financially.”
Gaining Perspective
Eventually Zangewa began to make collages, using sample scraps of silks to construct small images and even handbags. When she was at last able to afford bigger pieces of silk, she began to make the large appliqué works for which she’s now known.
Her early work often addressed themes of her city life and relationships, images that the artist now feels were very much about the “male gaze.” At a certain point she determined to concentrate instead on looking at life from her own perspective. “I think I’m a lot more honest in the way I present myself, as human and vulnerable and not an untouchable giantess, but also, the narratives center around my personal experiences, the growth that follows my feelings,” she says.
Even so, finding recognition took many years. Zangewa’s decision to pursue fairly low-key and subtle imagery meant that her work was sometimes deemed merely pretty and domestic. It was only with a U.S. exhibition at Miami Art Basel, in 2018, and her inclusion in an exhibition of contemporary African women artists at the Smithsonian Museum of African Art, in 2019, that the art world began to recognize the broader social and political ambitions of her work. These days Zangewa is represented by major galleries in New York, Paris and South Africa.
Zangewa’s intuition that political and social changes are fueled by the quiet actions of domestic life is probably most powerfully displayed in her images of her son. The gaze of a strong and adoring mother are clearly driving works such as Return to Innocence, where her child naps peacefully on a multicolored blanket in front of an expanse of pure gold silk, and perhaps more strikingly, in The Swimming Lesson. In this fractured work, the small boy is shown alone in the corner of a shimmering pool. The artist says that she originally intended to have the swimming instructor on the pool side as well as an image of herself sitting and watching but eventually saw that the work was about the position of the little boy taking on a new and challenging moment in his life. Once again, a scene that might be simply mundane is transformed into something both precious and potent. “This is what I’m supposed to be doing. Making these kinds of images,” says the artist. “I cannot imagine myself doing it any other way. There is no deliberate intention. When I’m working, my subconscious mind takes over and transmits what it’s dealing with.”
A version of this article appeared in the November 2020 issue of Artists Magazine, and it includes much more of Zangewa’s work.
Meet the Artist
Billie Zangewa was born in Malawi and grew up in Botswana. She attended Rhodes University, in South Africa, and later moved to Johannesburg, where she worked in the fashion industry. Her collaged silk artwork has been exhibited widely in Africa, Europe and the United States, including solo exhibitions at Miami Art Basel, in 2018, and Gallerie Templon Paris, in 2020. Her work is included in the collections of Tate Britain, in London (see a TateShots video at bit.ly/tateshot-zangewa); the Smithsonian National Museum of African Art, in Washington, D.C.; the Stedelijk Museum, in Amsterdam; the Iziko South African National Gallery, in Cape Town; and the Menil Collection, in Houston, Texas. Zangewa is currently represented by Galerie Templon Paris; Blank Projects, in Capetown; and Lehman Maupin, in New York. She makes her home in Johannesburg, South Africa.
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