The Legend that is Carol Hofmeyr of The Keiskamma Art Project
23 February 2021
An interview with Carol Hofmeyr, founder of The Kieskamma Art Project, sheds light on the importance of community and art in making a difference in poor communities.
It’s was a beautiful February day in Kalk Bay when I met with Carol Hofmeyr, founder of The Keiskamma Art Project. I first learned about Keiskamma when I did several Visual Culture electives at University but since my return to, and immersion in embroidery, I’ve had a renewed interest in all things stitching.
I can’t lie, felt rather intimidated about meeting the founder of such an iconic project – especially because my “artspeak” is so limited - but was immediately put at ease by Carol’s warm nature. I’m going to start by saying, artspeak aside, Keiskamma was first and foremost driven by Carol’s kindness, open-heartedness, and determination to help the impoverished community in Hamburg.
I can help
All art is created within a social and political context and the Keiskamma Art and embroidery project is no different. When Carol and her husband Justus bought a holiday house in Hamburg in the Eastern Cape, she was struck by the juxtaposition of the exquisite natural beauty and the poverty of the region. She realized that the only way that many people could feed their families was through poaching, and the only fuel they had access to was from wood chopped down from indigenous forests.
Carol originally trained as a medical doctor but later completed a Master’s Degree in Fine Art, specializing in printmaking. During her art studies, Carol had been part of a project called Paper Prayers that spanned all nine of South Africa’s provinces. This initiative used printmaking as an expressive medium through which people could come to terms with HIV and AIDS, and reconcile their experiences of the disease.
The overarching concept called on participants to print a strip that contained a message – a prayer, thought or remembrance – which would help them to reframe their tragic experiences of HIV and AIDS. Because not all studios had access to printmaking equipment, some participants were taught embroidery whereby they could record their messages of hope. It was here that Carol first noticed that embroidery is a good lifestyle fit for women. It was something they could fit in around their other chores and required little equipment. They could look after their children and talk to each other as they stitched. They could work on their pieces, regardless of their location and all the space they needed was their lap.
Although Carol couldn’t embroider herself, she witnessed the fulfilment and satisfaction it brought to people’s lives. And so the first seed was planted in the back of her mind.
Computers, Cows and Confidence
I asked Carol how the first meeting with the women transpired. I was trying to picture the first meeting and how Carol assembled her participants.
Because of Carol’s training, her first inclination was to teach printmaking. She had her printing press installed and ready to go. She sent word via people she knew from the community that she “had a machine” and could teaching people to make art.
With a chuckle, Carol tells me that on the elected day, people indeed came but they were disappointed. Something had got lost in translation and they thought that they were going to learn computer skills. Carol shifted gear and put fresh word out that she was going to hold an embroidery workshop. And then they came. And they began with drawing a cow. But more about that later.
Carol soon realised that satisfaction was only one side of the coin. The other side, of course, was money. Perhaps in accordance with Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs, the basic needs of the community had to addressed before the latter stages could be realised.
Accordingly, from the moment the women started sewing and presented Carol with their finished piece – no matter how rudimentary the end product was – Carol paid them for their work. While it made sense to do this from the point of view of attracting participants, it came at a great cost to Carol and her family, who were personally funding the initiative at this point.
Though some people advised Carol against paying for goods before they had been sold, Carol felt it was imperative to foster a culture of artists getting paid for their work, regardless of when and how their piece was sold.
Ask, and they will come
A natural connector of people, Carol registered that there was a disconnect between people who had skills, and those who could benefit from learning those skills. So, she decided to tap into the talents of people she knew.
However, it was chance that brought Carol and Jan Chalmers together. While on a roadtrip in Namibia, Carol was teaching herself to embroider. Jan was on the same trip and, as it turned out, had learned embroidery from her grandmother. Jan resided in Oxford, but having just retired from nursing, she volunteered to teach the community embroidery. Twice a year for 8 years, Jan and her friend Jacky Jezewski volunteered their time in Hamburg and taught embroidery.
For Jan and Jacky, the experience of imparting of their talents and education was fulfilling and they valued the relationships they fostered with the women of the local community.
The Subversive Story of the Lost Cattle.
I asked Carol how the process of artmaking and the learning the skill of embroidery unfolded. She told me that learning and teaching embroidery was centred around a theme; cattle. Cattle were – and still are - a motif that the community was familiar with and which harnessed the narrative that pertains to the importance of cattle for Xhosa people.
The women began with drawing cows. Some lacked confidence in their drawing skills and got their neighbour to draw it instead. Some took it home for their children to draw. Many of the women hadn’t drawn since they were children themselves.
In Xhosa culture, women aren’t allowed near the cattle. Cattle are a man’s domain. A married woman can’t even cross the entrance to the kraal where the cattle are kept. Because cattle and patriarchy go hand in hand, it was perhaps with unintentional boldness that the women illustrated and embroidered cattle. It was a way to subvert traditional associations with cattle.
Intertwined with the still-prevailing paradigm of cattle, is the story of the great cattle killing of 1856. As the story goes, a young Xhosa girl, Nongqawuse, saw a vision at the pool near what is now Trennerys Hotel. The vision told her that if the people killed their cattle and didn’t plant crops, new herds would come out of the sea and the white man would be driven away from the lands. The Xhosa’s acted on this prophecy, but it proved to be false. As a result, the only way they could feed their families was to seek work in the nearby village. The Xhosa’s that Carol worked with believe that Nongqawuse was deceived by colonialists who were in need of labour.
Accordingly, creating embroidery with cattle on it was a way to reclaim the “lost” cattle. It was a way to fulfil the prophecy that herds would come out of the sea, return to the Xhosa people, and bring prosperity and peace back to them. Perhaps this is exactly what the Keiskamma Art Project has done, albeit in a metaphoric way.
The Keiskamma Tapestry
“I never understood why some of the works became so well known.” – Carol Hofmeyr
The Keiskamma Tapestry is a story within a story within a story. There’s the (his)story of the frontier, which is recorded on the tapestry. There’s the story of The Keiskamma Art Project. And there’s the story of the women of Hamburg and how stitching became an integral part of the contemporary history of this region.
Carol insists that the original intention behind making the tapestry wasn’t to produce a monumental piece in order to impress. Rather, it was a means for the community to uncover and record the story of who they were, and who they had become. It grew from the need to acknowledge and retrace the history of the area in an attempt to re-root people who had historically been displaced because “they had lost a sense of belonging.“
Historians were brought in to orientate the community around their history. This helped them to fill in the gaps in their legacy and relocate the stories that had been handed down through generations within this knowledge.
The plan for the original design for the tapestry suggested that it would be complete at 60m. However, due to the great interest in the project, it reached 100m as over 120 women enthusiastically took part. Carol reflects on the time when it came to illustrate and stitch the apartheid era.
The embroiderers were reticent and disinclined to explore this phase of their history. Carol puts this down to the collective feelings of shame that were experienced during these years She adds that perhaps, ‘reliving” this dark time in their history was too much for them to bear. “Humiliation. I think. I don’t know.”
Carol struggled to unlock the hidden stories that had been filed away by the embroiderers and their families. Instead, they turned to newspaper reports to inform their embroidery for this section of the tapestry.
The Keiskamma Tapestry ends with the first democratic election of 1994, and it was during this phase that the group found their voices again. They were invigorated and enthusiastic to embroider and share their stories of this time.
Altarpieces, AIDS and Picasso
“It was always about stories. And learning.” – Carol Hofmeyr
The making of the Keiskamma altarpiece – a reinterpretation and recreation of the Isenheim Altarpiece - coincided with Carol working in the local Hamburg clinic. Because of the great need for healthcare providers in the region, Carol had returned to her medical roots and had taken on the task of working in a medical capacity. During her tenure in the clinic, she managed to secure much-needed ARV’s. The tone of the Keiskamma altarpiece echoes the tone of the social context: ARV’s were bringing hope to those infected by, and affected by, HIV and AIDS.
In contrast, the piece that replicated Picasso’s Guernica coincided with ARV’s being introduced to the government health system in 2010. Over this time, many of the patients that had been under Carol’s care were transferred to the care of the government. Many of Carol’s previous patients died - unnecessarily. HIV and AIDS was highly stigmatised and the hospital staff were – and still are - said to be uncaring and unsympathetic towards AIDS patients.
“All the patients we’d nurtured and looked after so carefully had to move into the government system - which was so uncaring.” – Carol Hofmeyr
The original Guernica illustrates anger and injustice. These feelings of anger were translated onto the reinterpretation that was realised by the Keiskamma embroidery team. They replaced the elements and icons that appear in Picasso’s piece and applied images that were relevant to the South African context instead. The end product was displayed at the Grahamstown Festival in 2010.
Carol shares that at the time she was concerned that the anger of the piece expressed her feelings of anger, rather than the anger of the women who made it. She reflects that, once they had grieved the loss of their loved ones, the women of the local community tended to be much more accepting of death because they viewed it as part of the natural cycle of life.
The Cost of Creating
“We make art. Artists need to be paid.“ – Carol Hofmeyr
Over and above skill acquisition and personal fulfilment, Carol reflects that the primary objective for the women was the need to create an income.
Initially, much of the project was funded by the Hofmeyr family and the embroiderers were paid from the first piece that they completed – regardless of the quality. Carol saw this as an essential component of the project: being paid for what you do, not for what you sell.
Once the project sold their artworks, they were able to generate funding which could keep them afloat for a while. They have received donations but Carol tells me that donors are resistant to the concept of paying salaries, as they feel their funding should go towards paying for the actual pieces that are completed and when the work is sold. This restrictive thinking doesn’t make allowance for activities like packing and administration, which are essential components of the project.
Restrictive donor thinking also places limits on what can or “should” be produced, as it places time constraints and scale constraints on the artworks. Had this attitude been adopted for the Keiskamma Tapestry, it may never have reached the lengths – both figuratively and literally – that it did reach. Projects such as these require an expansive, holistic mindset that acknowledges the tension between the creative, psychological, social and artistic value of art versus the stance that seeks to locate art within a commercially orientated business model.
Perhaps the difference in the commercial versus artistic approach, is that it informs the way art is conceived and places restrictions on what is made, and how it is made. Consider for a moment the large-scale artworks and installations such as the snow-art by landscape artist Simon Beck, or the installations of Strijdom van der Merwe. These are near impossible to quantify and value, yet enrich society they do.
Because the Keiskamma Art Project is so well known, Carol tells me that nowadays funding is granted on the basis that the work produced constitutes both art and functional, commercial products.
Cohesive Community and Civil Connection
Despite livelihood being a main motivator, Carol reflects that the women enjoyed the stitching and moreover, developed strong bonds. To this day, the women are a strong, cohesive group. The original, core group are still together and are very attuned to each other’s lives, life-events, and needs. They know when someone is ill or when disaster has befallen anyone.
Until Covid19 hit, the women still stitched side by side, their children playing in the midst, on the grounds of the Art Centre. That’s what’s pleased Carol the most. That the Art Centre has always been place for women to commune. A safe place they can come and share their problems and joys with each other.
To illustrate the agency that the art centre has helped to instil in women, Carol tells me a story that testifies how the communal space serves as a forum where women can debate and decide on matters that affect them and their communities.
The Keiskamma Art project spans two centres; one is in Hamburg and the other is in the neighbouring village of Bodiam. Back in the day, a Somalian, bought the spaza shop in Bodiam. The men in the community were against this because the owner wasn’t local. He was an “outsider.” The women, however, met in the art centre, conferred and put forward that they wanted the Somalian to stay. This was because he refused to sell alcohol to their children, and because his bread price was lower. Because of the cohesive nature of the group, they were able to collectively put forward their needs and insist on what was important for them, their families, and ultimately for the greater community.
Making a legacy, passing it on
The story of stitching is fascinating. You can trace a line through almost all civilisations and find threads of proof. Art and embroidery leave an incredible legacy. I’d love to go back in time and ask the women of Keiskamma what their first impressions of stitching were. Did they love it from the start?
Carol tells me that a few of the women already knew how to embroiderer and although Jan Chalmers and Jacky Jezewskigave them formal training, the embroiderers were able to retain the naïve quality and African aesthetic that came through in the embroiderers work. It would have been easy to try and get them to adopt a Western, Euro-centric aesthetic, but Carol and her team embraced the unpretentious forms and elements and celebrate the personal, stylistic preferences of the women Picasso once said, “It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.” Indeed, a child-like quality is difficult to reclaim once your drawing and embroidery has been influenced and has evolved.
Jacky has since passed away, and Jan has gone on to work on a Palestinian tapestry – an embroidery project with the women of Palestine that helps them "tell their story about the land, the people who live there and what they left behind."
Art scholar Marielda Marais (who taught Carol at art school) came once a year and taught formal drawing and painting to the Keiskamma artists. Similar to the pieces created by the incredible artists at Ardmore, designers and makers now occupy separate roles. During her time with Keiskamma, Marielda identified four young people who she earmarked for tertiary education. Their studies were paid for by the bursary that was founded in memory of Carol’s niece who was killed in a car accident and these talented artists each went on to achieve a degree in fine arts.
The new generation of artists bring a contemporary design aesthetic and don’t lean into the traditional naïve style that one typically associates South African embroidery projects such as Keiskamma, Kaross and Mapula. Embroiderers have developed areas of specialisation. Nozeti Makubalo still loves to illustrate cows and has remained faithful to her naïve style, which has become iconic. Other artists lean in to botanicals as well as other design elements that they enjoy producing. I, for one, love the uncontrived, fresh feel of the embroidery. Especially those of The Intsikizi Tapestries.
All four artists returned to Hamburg once they’d completed their degrees. One chose to become a policeman due to the appeal of a regular income. One sadly passed away. Cebo Mvubu still works with the project as a lead artist and production manager.
Cebo Mvubu was one of only three men who joined the original core group of embroiderers. He told Carol that they originally joined in because they were interested in art, rather than embroidery. But they ended up doing embroidery as well. Cebo is an exceptional textile artist, along with another young man who has branched out to fashion design.
Looking back, facing forward
I asked Carol “If you were to start Keiskamma again, would you do it in the same way?” Here is her answer:
“I think I would do it the same way. You do what you feel driven to do. When someone asks me how to start an art project, I feel I can’t really give that kind of advice. It was very intuitive and we took one step at a time. I didn’t have an end goal. It came from a place of wanting to teach a skill which could give the community self-esteem, a little income, and help them feel better. My advice would be to show up, be there and see what happens. The only thing I would say is to start very small. Perhaps one-on-one. That way, growth is more sustainable and manageable.”
Carol is still uncertain as to the best way to approach the business model side of projects such as Keiskamma in order that they be self-sufficient. She’s aware that the expense of setting up and running such a project came at great expense to the Hofmeyr family and knows that this way isn’t a sustainable way to operate. However, she’s also aware of the basic and economic needs of poor communities.
Carol tells the story of how, when the project started, one woman handed over her piece and – despite the unfinished, rough result - was paid for it. She told Carol that it was the first money she ever earned. “She was overjoyed. The women were so desperate and in need.”
From here to there
When Covid19 took hold and we all sat ruminating in our kitchens, living rooms and bedrooms, we bore witness to people’s global immersion in the arts. Videos of people singing from balconies, playing instruments, and making a plethora of artworks emerged from social media. My son and I debated the importance of science versus art. We settled on the notion that while science may save us, it is surely art that will sustain us until we are saved.
South Africa’s social context has changed drastically since 2000. The diaspora from other African countries has left even more people unemployed than ever. Having no income is dire indeed, but having no way to occupy your time is perhaps almost as bad. In addition, people who are displaced need to feel like they belong. Outsider or local, I propose that there is no better way to foster a sense of belonging than by creating art communally, within a shared space. A place where people can commune, share, learn, produce and belong.
Sources:
Hofmeyr, C. (2021) ‘Interview with Carol Hofmeyr’. Interviewed by Lianne Protheroe. 3 Feb 2021.
Lewis, L. (2020). ‘Telling the story of indigenous Palestine in stitches: A conversation with Jan Chalmers.’ Middle East Monitor. November 2020. Available at: https://www.middleeastmonitor.com/20201125-memo-in-conversation-with-jan-chalmers/ Accessed 23 February 2021.
Schmahmann, B. (2016). The Keiskamma Art Project: Restoring hope and livelihoods. Cape Town. Print Matters Heritage.