Includes abstract.|Includes bibliographical references (leaves 45-46). / This paper attempts to set out the parameters for a discussion of my Masters exhibition, entitled Out of Sight. It traces out the progress of this exhibition over the course of two years, attempting to account for the parallel development of my work across the media of sculpture, drawing and figure painting. As such the paper traces out my engagement with the two major thematic concerns of my masters exhibition: the representation of the gay male body and architectural space and site. The latter concerns both my strategies for the re-modelling of the gallery space, and my approach to the representation of the specific site of Graaff's Pool, on the Sea Point Promenade in Cape Town. I set out to explain how this site, located in a liminal space, geologically, architecturally and historically, becomes a nodal point for the concerns of my masters project. As such, I begin to trace out the .themes that intersect in my sculptural re-presentations of the site of Graaff's pool operating within zones of visibility and invisibility. My translation of this site into a site-specific installation in the gallery space intentionally disturbs the viewer's ability to see, in its treatment of scale and surface, as well as obstructs and directs their movement through the space. This discussion of visibility lin visibility extends to my treatment of the figure in drawings and watercolours, paying particular attention to my working of the surface in order to trouble the act of looking, hence the visibility or presence of the figure. This enables me to introduce ideas around the difficulties of representation in general, but particularly of the gay male body and the expression of a gay male subjectivity. I introduce into my discussion, if cautiously, the ideas of Michel Foucault and Mikhael Bakhtin. I do not in any way present a synthesis of these ideas, but begin to introduce their thinking as a way of reading specific works in the exhibition. As such, I trace out a possible connection between Foucault's idea of powerlknowledge and the invisible operation of disciplinary power as placing limits on the representation of the gay male body, and as such on its visibility.

Includes bibliographical references (p. 109-114). / My artwork deals with the experience and concept of 'mystery' - mystery that inspires awe - and sometimes fear - and that is located beyond the known. The sublime is one area where I experience mystery intensely. Immanuel Kant, an important philosopher of the Enlightenment, proposes that one can and should contain the sublime with reason, and in the process elevate it to an objective, universal and rational truth. My response to, and understanding of, the sublime differs from that of Kant: I do not attempt in any way to contain the sublime. In my work, I wish only to express my relationship to it, and to experience it as a personal, intimate and emotional truth.

Includes bibliographical references. / Inflatable sculpture is often seen as absurd, comic or light-hearted, but it can also convey a darker, more serious tone. The inflatable sculptures created in part fulfillment for this degree explore refabrication through the use of discarded plastic. This body of work highlights the relationship between industrialisation, plastic goods and nature. The insubstantial, flimsy qualities of the inflatable are an extended metaphor for the fragility of ecologies and the impact of plastic pollution on the environment.

Includes abstract. / Includes bibliographical references (p. 117-119). / In 2008 I travelled, with camera in hand, to Germany in order to photograph the two concentration camps to Buchenwald and Ravensbrück. These are two of several camps that Germany established during the late 1930s to house so called undesirables or those believed to be enemies of the Reich. These people were not only extracted from society within Germany, but later from all occupied territories. European Jewry was the primary target of this policy. Six million Jews were murdered during the Holocaust, but they were not the only victims. Approximately one and a half million Gypsies, at least 250 000 physically or mentally disabled people, three million Soviet prisoners of war, Jehovah's Witnesses, homosexuals, Social Democrats, Communists, partisans, trade unionists and Polish intelligentsia were among those that fell victim to the Nazis. The Germany's concentration camps, these prisoners of the Reich were set to work under severe inhumane conditions as slave labour, which was also a means of torture, as efficient production was not the primary endeavour of these camps. It was only when war broke out that policy altered and the labour was utilised by German enterprises and to aid Germany's war effort. These camps formed part of a larger system that later sought to eventually annihilate these "enemies". There were also transit camps to those camps located towards the east, in Poland - the notorious death camps, where mass murder became harrowingly efficient.

ILIZWE LIFILE is a tactile exploration of the aspects of cultural history kwaXhosa within South African political history that intersect with my own lived experience. Through drawings, tableau, sculptures and video, I explore how cultural, social and political narratives within the South African post-apartheid landscape are negotiated. In this explicatory document, divided in three parts, I focus on interrelated personal and collective histories. Part I establishes a broad overview of the personal experiences driving my studio practice and research enquiries. Drawing from Zakes Mda's The Heart of Redness (2000) to explore readings of history, displacement, education and landscape, I elaborate on a negotiation of my cultural identity within the contentions about collective history and national identity. Part II looks at the negation of black cultural identity through covert impositions of Eurocentric culture and epistemology within education systems in my experience and within history. I employ concepts from Paulo Freire's Pedagogy of the Oppressed (2017) to develop socio-political readings of the television series Yizo Yizo, linking its thematic universe to heterogeneous black identities in post-apartheid South Africa. Part III presents how aspects of an oppressive history are manifest in the present, while offering more explicit interpretations of my body of work as a means for exploring the residue of history in the present.

Includes abstract.|Includes bibliographical references (leaves 52-56). / The title is borrowed from the classic novel by John Steinbeck published in 1939¹. It is a story that ostensibly concerns the Joad family's move from the agricultural hinterland of America to the promised land of California. Steinbeck's intention is the sympathetic portrayal of the human cost of mechanised agricultural revolution. The story plots the collision of old value systems with new profit driven capitalistic drives (Thompson and Kutach, 1990:143). The attendant ramifications see a great shift in the rural population to the urban areas. Much arable land is bought up by faceless consortiums and banks, leaving the farm dwellers little choice but to pack up and leave in search of work, in this manner a way of life for hundreds of thousands of unsophisticated, hard-working people comes to an end.

My project interrogates traditional Western landscape painting in light of the contemporary understanding that ‘nature’ has been rearticulated, even plasticised and hence rendered malleable, through human action. The idea of a plasticised natural environment is concomitant with the age of the Anthropocene which has brought with it a tremendous rise in the use of plastic since the 1950s, and the consequent polluting effect it has had on the ‘natural’ environment. In recent years evidence indicates that traces of plastic are now in the earth, which suggests a need to rethink what exactly the ‘natural’ environment is comprised of. With reference to traditional Western landscape painting, my work explores the idea of a socially and materially constructed landscape. Utilising the medium of acrylic paint, I reimagine the landscape by using a material that embodies plastic. Removing the dried and solidified acrylic paint from its ground, the landscape painting is liberated from its supporting canvas and frame in an attempt to deconstruct traditional Western landscape painting. My project aims to rearticulate the language and meaning that is associated with landscapes and the natural environment.

This project is situated in the area of sonic art and explores my personal biography in relation to sound, silence, censorship and social control. Using the artistic productions of John Cage, I examine silence as both an object—a recording in a fixed medium—and as a verb directly addressing the question of censorship of the self and of others. The interplay of silencing and silence is expressed in my artistic practice which employs, as audio palate, the silences between the words of significant political speeches from South Africa. As a consequence of this process I have excised all recognizable words in various aural and video works leaving only the 'Cagean’ noise of the silence. I further examine related aspects of silence and silencing through the metaphor of the mute button—a mechanical silencing device—which serves both as a creative tool in a recording studio as well as a censorial device to prohibit voices being heard. The beating, hitting and silences are all set against a backdrop of (post) apartheid South Africa for the expression of some of my personal and theoretical realisations.

Bibliography: leaves 83-86. / My personal experiences of patriarchal abusive behaviour have shaped and affected me. Two things in my formative schooling years marked the beginning of deep emotional disturbances in my life. Firstly, the vulnerability of being a female schoolgirl, constantly trapped in fear by threats of potentially abusive boys both within and without school premises. The 'old boys', as we would refer to them, instilled in me a negative attitude towards men that has affected me in later life. Secondly, my Sub A teacher who welcomed me with a 'klap' on my first day at school. This was followed by a long year of misery. I found myself going through a journey of broken emotions that resulted in years of aggressive behaviour, creating havoc in my family. This disturbing turbulence led me to seek internal liberation in order to analyse and deal with my emotional state. My health became affected by constant headaches and other stress related conditions. In addition to these formative experiences is my experience as a fine art student at the University of Fort Hare. Like many other black people in South Africa, I entered the field of fine art at a tertiary level with no prior art training. My early work was informed by social concerns and focused thematically on the upbringing of children in a safe and conducive environment. This idea emanated from what I observed and perceived as the submissiveness and subordination of women in my neighbourhood, either as mothers or as girlfriends. The failure for women to stand up to their authoritative, abusive husbands has detrimental effects on children. One of the reasons being that children ' ... attempt to protect a mother who is being attacked by a male companion or a husband, or they are emotionally damaged by witnessing violence and abuse' (hooks 2000: 72). Once I had obtained my undergraduate degree I enrolled at the University of Cape Town for an HDE (Higher Diploma in Education in pursuit of my career). That was a distressing experience. I constantly felt alienated from the tutorial group as I was the only black person in the art tutorial class. This was my first involvement with 'white establishment'. Language and culture, among other things, created a gap and a barrier between my classmates and myself and I discovered that this was the case with other black students also from Fort Hare. Unlike at Fort Hare, I could not easily approach lecturers at UCT to discuss problematic areas concerning my studies. At the time there was only one male black lecturer, who only came in for a section in the Psychology of Education course. Entering UCT felt for me like an act of trespass. I made up my mind that I would not allow myself to feel as if I was at UCT under protest. It is this approach that is the impetus for this dissertation.

Includes abstract.|Includes bibliographical references. / The travelling exhibition was formalised in a series of manuals, The Organization of Museums: Practical Advice (Museums and Monuments Series, IX) published by UNESCO as recently as the 1960s. Promoted as a utility for societies seeking to mediate rapid cultural change to one another in the period following the Second World War, my study highlights how certain elements of this display genre could be seen as inherent to all exhibitions: firstly, that carefully selected objects have the power to transport ideological and aesthetic values; secondly, that exhibitions are transient objects, in themselves worthy of study, as constructs of logistical, conceptual, public and political bolts and joints; and thirdly, that exhibition curators often play the role of diplomat – negotiating and mediating meaning across borders of various kinds. Though seemingly an obscure example, the large-scale international exchange of the Exhibition of Contemporary British Paintings and Drawings (1947-8) and the Exhibition of Contemporary South African Paintings, Drawings and Sculpture (1948-9) between the colonial centre and so-called ‘periphery’ of the South African Union, is a complex case study within a certain trajectory of travelling exhibitions. Never dealt with previously, the occurrence of such an exchange is significant not only because of its political context – in an immediate post-war, pre-apartheid moment – but also because many of the curatorial strategies used in the exchange process are heralded in UNESCO’s manual of Travelling Exhibitions (1953). To unpack this British-South African colonial freight could be easily regarded as a ‘merely’ art historical or archival gesture. If however, we understand the archive to be an historically determined framework within which to arrange cultural knowledge (Hamilton 2011), then an archive of travelling exhibitions makes both actual and contingent those cultural arrangements – the transient curatorial ‘principles of packing’ (UNESCO 1963). This project asserts that whether or not an exhibition is designated as such, travelling, as both an approach and the effect of curatorship, becomes the utility for mobilising not only objects but also ideas between contexts as seemingly disparate as those of the 1940s exhibitions or in today’s expansive ‘art worlds’.