Recently I read a collection of Doris Lessing's interviews. She once said: "A novel is a problem to be solved." This appealed deeply to me, yet I realised that it contains a truth far more complex than the statement initially suggests.
I'd like to make certain claims concerning Joan Metelerkamp's poetry. In order to back these claims up, I'm going to enact them - in other words, I'm going to try do here, what I claim her poetry does. I'm going to read from the page - listen as if this were a piece of music. Tune in and out at random.
I cannot particularly compare this collection to anything I've read in South Africa recently, something simultaneously intensely refreshing and daunting. How to describe it? Essentially, it's female but unfeminine, intimate but cold, easy to touch but difficult to apprehend. Fidgety and withheld.
This way I salute you is a selection of poems by Keoraptse 'Willie' Kgositsile from five collections published over the past three decades, plus a sample of new work. As the title indicates, the poems are a salute to fellow artists - mainly jazz musicians and poets - that have inspired Kgositsile, and include names such as Nina Simone, Aimé Cesaire, Chinua Achebe, Billie Holiday, John Coltrane, Hugh Masekela, Otis Redding and Can Themba.
Like any army of bees deriving fulfillment out of swarming the Queen Bee, artists from all walks of life and corners of the country came in droves to pay homage to veteran artist and poet Bra Ike Mboneni Muila.
During South Africa's transition to democracy, Prophets of da City's (POC) use of hip-hop as a tool for raising the critical consciousness of its audiences played a significant role in ensuring that the country's disenfranchised youth found ways of accessing the public sphere.