Malick Sidibé has received international acclaim since his debut solo exhibition in 1995 curated by André Magnin for the Cartier Foundation for Contemporary Art in Paris. Since then Sidibé has frequently exhibited in the world’s major museums and contemporary art galleries. Most recently he has been the recipient of many coveted international awards such as the International Centre of Photography Lifetime Achievement Award in 2008, the Golden Lion for Lifetime Achievement at the 52nd Venice Biennale in 2007 and the Hasselblad Award in 2003.

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A short conversation with Malick Sidibé

Is your studio in the same place it has always been since 1958?

Yes, we can say that since 1958-1960 my studio is still in the same place in Bagadagi.

To talk about your work is to talk about the life and people of Bamako, the clubs, the Sunday afternoons by the river. You were a part of this life, enjoying the parties and the moments with everyone else. Your comment?

Yes I was a part of the popular life of the people of Bamako. I have taken photos of all aspects of life in Mali through the years, the changes, the officials, the constructions, the people of that time. I took photos for baptisms, communions, marriages, the new business and official classes. I was also asked by the government to take photos of road and building construction. Many of the working class wanted to be photographed too. They were proud to be modern and have work and be photographed so I visited them at work during the week and took their photographs. They all had trust in me. I was out with them at the parties and at the river on Sundays. I had their confidence and I was one of them.

What is the view of how Africa has been portrayed compared to your own experience of living in Bamako? Are the two different?

For sure! We always see the negative aspects of Africa on television, of war, poverty, etc. My experience has been very different and the photos that I have taken here in Bamako show that. Maybe that is why people have been drawn to it. One time in Paris two women said that they have discovered another face of Africa in my photos, one of elegance, fun, joy… I say this is the true face of Africa.

What is your personal response to international claim to your work today – with all the acclaim and the awards?

I have always tried to do good work all the time and maybe it has also partially been the reason. I think people have found the work interesting because it shows the life of Malians or Africans in general that they have never encountered before. Through the photos taken in my studio, people are now rediscovering the 1960s of Bamako. In today’s world people are constantly looking for new things that they haven’t seen before and maybe these images show this.

You have seen many changes in Bamako since the 1960s. What is your view of the western influence on the culture in Bamako since then?

With any kind of contact come influence and change and what has happened here in Bamako is no different. During the 1960s in Bamako the youth dressed in European dress and listened to American and European music. It doesn’t matter what clothes you wear or what music you listen to. You are still African! It takes much more to change that.

Have you been aware of the DRUM magazine photos from South Africa and other Anglophone African countries? How did that influence at all?

I was very disappointed by the images I saw from South Africa under apartheid in the 1960s. It was depressing. Unfortunately I have not been very much aware of the DRUM photographers as we did not have that much contact with Anglophone Africa here. We knew more what was going on with our neighbours in Francophone Africa. But this needs to be addressed. We should get to know each other better, and the work from other parts of the continent.

The Bamako Photo Biennale is the premier photo exhibition on the continent. Do you think it follows in the tradition of Bamako’s popular photo culture of the past?

The Bamako Photo Biennale is seen by locals as mainly for tourists and visitors to Mali. The ordinary people of Mali feel the images a bit strange to them. I think it is also a question of education. But at the same time it is good for us photographers to see the photos and what is happening in other parts of the continent.

Are your photos still affordable to local Malians or are there different prices for different people?

These days everyone has a camera so there is not much business in studio photography. With the coming of instant colour labs the studio photo started to die off. But I have stuck it out and continued to produce photos in black and white.

The wunderkind of South African photography, Lolo Veleko is garnering the type of international attention that is rare for a photographer from this country. In 2006 she was propelled into the international arena when Okwui Enwezor selected her for Snap Judgments, a comprehensive exhibition of contemporary African photography at New York’s International Centre for Photography. Singled out by the New York Times for her “her eye-tingling pictures of Johannesburg street fashion”, Veleko focuses upon the radical chic of black street-youth as a means to explore issues of race and identity. Fashion is her vocabulary – fashion on the edge – which becomes charged with a racial rhetoric vis-à-vis the “harassment” Veleko and those she photographs confront for their adherence to avant-garde couture. Repeatedly characterized as a continuation in the historic line of the Malian photographer Seydou Keïta (1921 – 2001), Veleko’s work is also frequently linked to that of the contemporary African photographer Samuel Fosso (born 1962 in Cameroon). But Veleko prefers to see her images more in the spirit of the Japanese Shoichi Aoki, who photographs Tokyo’s avant-garde street fashion for his publication, Fruits. Born in Bodibe, North West Province in 1977, Nontsikelelo (Lolo) Veleko grew up in Cape Town, and currently lives and works in Johannesburg. She studied graphic design at the Cape Technikon, and photography at the Market Photo Workshop in Johannesburg. In addition to exhibiting widely throughout South Africa, Veleko has shown her work in galleries and museums in Rome, the Canary Islands, Biel (Switzerland), London, and New York. Veleko shows regularly with the Linda Goodman Gallery in Johannesburg and Cape Town.

Sanford S. Shaman: Much of your recent work focuses on fashion. In light of the intensity of African photography today, how do you reconcile your exploration of fashion?

Lolo Veleko: Let me correct you and emphasize that my work centers around issues of identity through clothing.

SSS: Nevertheless, much has been said about what many writers describe as your interest in “fashion”, but no one seems to have explored your formal or informal connection to fashion photography particularly in light of your time in Cape Town where there’s growing international activity in that field.

LV: Perhaps this has been a fault on my side too, as I do not write much on my work, my influences, dreams, etc. But I grew up in Cape Town and my work thus far has always been working from my memories of Cape Town’s individuality. I must say, though, that when I left Cape Town I was studying graphic design and my sister was studying fashion, and secretly I admired what she did, but did not have the guts to pursue fashion as a subject. When I studied photography I looked up to Crispian Plunkett’s work as well as the work of Koto Bolofo and Gerda Genis.

SSS: You have said of your own work “it could be complicated, but I try not to let it go there!” Have you not perhaps carried that to an extreme with the emphasis on clothes and exterior appearances?

LV: To the best of my knowledge I have tried to simplify things but I think the more I consciously did that, the more it became complicated. My training is in basic journalistic photography, and I had to use that style yet deny much of what comes with it. I studied in a workshop [the Market Photo Workshop in Johannesburg] for really a short period of time, and all I have done thus far has been a sort of ambitious experimentation with colour film and printing. Anywhere else my work would not make it, as it is kind of risky work, not everyone’s cup of tea.

SSS: Your work in fact is in stark contrast to the contemporary African photography which is tough, harsh, and highly confrontational. I wonder if much of your success is not the result of offering a more palatable alternative.

LV: Perhaps! I really do not know as the response to the work varies in each country. My work is not specific; it flirts with fashion, politics, tradition, music, graffiti, etc. I think I offer photographs that speak of my time in relation to what is happening around me in an urban situation, because we as South Africans are dealing with issues of identity and finding ourselves through experimentation. This is not the experiment the colonialist had in mind – perhaps this is what makes a success of the work.

SSS: Clearly a key component of the work is the relationship between the photographer and the sitter. There are, however, differing interpretations of your approach to this. Writing about your Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder series, critic Rory Bester says that you make images “…in which the relationship between the photographer and the photographed isn’t quite clear”. Elsewhere your work has been described as suggesting an “implicit collaboration between sitter and photographer”. Just how are we to understand the dynamic that you cultivate between the photographer and the subject?

LV: Rory refers to the fact that I “dress up” myself and I imprint a bit of myself in the Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder series. [But] I would like to think that I had been through what they [the sitters] have been through. I had been harassed by people who felt I was not dressing-up like them and therefore [they assumed] I was thinking I’m better than they are. In Cape Town I had to stop wearing my short skirts [while] roller-skating and rollerblading in the streets. When I had a Mohawk, a lot of those people who claimed to be sure of who they were, suddenly isolated me from their circles. In short I can say I have been in the shoes of the misunderstood in my quest of discovering my many selves and this is what you actually find in all the photographs.

SSS: Obviously, you strongly identify with the sensibilities of your sitters.

LV: I mentioned once in an interview that at the time of taking the 2003-2005 images, it was not easy for the Johannesburg youth to hang around “Jozi” streets dressed up the way Thulani, Hloni and a few other [sitters] dressed. They faced harassment all the time, and most times I could hear people laugh at them, asking, “What the hell are they wearing?” But in 2006 the very same harassers are wearing those styles and have a “selective insomnia”. I still hear people at galleries too doing the same thing.

For me growing up in Cape Town, I had seen far more interesting young people dressed so sharp that it was almost like a celebration over there. As I got excited collaborating with them for the photographs, I yearned to show the work outside and blow it up big like billboards somehow, as a celebration of some kind of “gutsy” individuality at the time. But I feared for my subjects. I was scared the people photographed could face more harassment or even worse. I think … it was a better choice to show in a closed space than an open space especially here in South Africa.

SSS: But what about beyond South Africa? Your Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder series is generally recognized for its global appeal. It has even been described as an example of how “…globality has clearly replaced modernity as the currency of contemporary identity”.

LV: I suppose the statement is true and not true at the same time because nothing really has been replaced. Both modernity and globality are still currencies of contemporary identity. Look at David LaChapelle’s movie Rize and what’s happening in the ghettos in L.A. In Israel and Morocco the obvious American influences that are there are so amazing like hip-hop, sagging pants and “50 cent [hip-hop] chains” hanging on the youths’ necks – even the way they talk. [And] the streets of Tokyo early in 1992 till now in Harajuku have been a melting pot of Japanese youth defying traditional clothing and norms as we know them. They came up with a lot of crazy yet interesting experiments. For example, they cut up the kimono and wore it with a Chanel skirt with lots of accessories. Others were influenced by hip-hop, tanned their skin dark and some took punk and rock to another level. As South Africans we have not even discovered that part of things over there – or even here.

In France globalization as a topic, and making people ready for it, has been dealt with since the 80’s – whilst we were still struggling with the ills of Apartheid. So you can imagine how ready France must [have been] for it than we in South Africa. [But] South Africa can no longer see itself outside of a global movement even though sadly for us it’s happening at an extremely fast pace because it is still really new to us. [Isolated] geographically, and politically … far behind, … we have had to catch up. Sometimes that brings about qualities in photography and art, which I both hate and love.

But one thing I am sure of, is that the viewers from countries like Madagascar, Reunion Island and America can now identify with a Johannesburg youth [who is] visually unlike cliché images of Africa that are mass produced on a daily basis and forced down the throats of the public.

SSS: You’ve recently spent time in the UK. You were awarded a residency there with the International Photography Research Network (IPRN). How did you find the way of life there? Did it impact your work?

LV: My time in the UK was both eye opening and hard at the same time. I went from mid February until mid April 2007, and I was based at the University of Sunderland. The laws around street photography are harsh over there, and it was a definite requirement that I have public liability insurance as well as model release forms before I could even take my first photographs. The other difficulty was that I had to write letters for permission to [photograph] workers.

But also it is quite a tense environment over there, and Sunderland is a small city in the Northeast of England. It reminded me a lot of Johannesburg because of the fact that they once had a coal mine and a ship building industry that was really their source of income. And once both closed down, almost all the people over there were jobless, and they had to go for training in new technologies and mainly work in call centres. It brought about a body of work, that was shown in a group show in Finland, [and which was] not so different from what I deal with Identity.

SSS: This growing international acceptance of your work implies its universal appeal. But repeatedly you have explained your work as essentially grounded in racial issues from a highly personal perspective. In light of that, who is the audience that you are attempting to reach?

LV: With all my work I am trying to reach a universal audience. Although I use myself as an example, and use my life’s history of coming from a mixed heritage, I speak to all people. I decided to use clothing as a way of narrating this because all of us wear clothes/fashion. This might not be high fashion but we all dress up or down according to our influences, education, religion, etc.

SSS: But working through the gallery/museum/art publication world, are you also able to reach the street community that you photograph? Are you reaching – through the art world – the racially mixed people on whom you focus in notblackenough.lolo?

LV: With the notblackenough.lolo project, I am reaching the racially mixed people. This has been so evident in Barcelona where even there, there is prejudice amongst clans. The installation there caused so much debate that in a week there was no space to write in [the area designated for visitors’ comments], as people vented their feelings about this state of affairs. At the same time even though we speak highly of globalization, there is still a lot prejudice directed toward mixed race people, for example, read about what has been written on Obama who is running for president in the US. Read about the ethnic cleansing happening in North Africa in different states.

[But] I have not really reached a crowd of the street communities in this country for reasons I mentioned before (harassment of the people photographed). This is due to prejudice and fear to be “out of the box”! But time will tell because that is exactly what I dream of. It’s in the pipeline and it will be done soon when the time is right. I guess the challenge of photographing the “street” community is to then invite them and their friends and families to [the exhibition] space …[and] give them an idea where the images go, and what happens to them. So the duty for me does not end in just telling them where it is going to be shown, but to invite them there, to include them in academic discussions, and perhaps give them a chance to explain themselves – instead of me assuming things. Also to be there for them when they do not understand the art world as well as the history of the gallery and its importance in society – which I am also still discovering.

Okay! I’ll tell you my secret – the highest and the most important reason why I eventually opted for art galleries is because throughout history, art and art galleries seem to be highly protected. They seem to … have stood the test of time for generations. We are still learning about and experiencing art that was in existence before the time of Christ. I would like for my work to stand this test of time so that generations to come could be proud of us and would know where they are going from here. Besides I am coming from an historical background that only relied on the narration of stories, which I strongly value, but for me it was not enough. I believe by seeing. I visualize the narrations in the photographs. I even eat with my eyes first!

SSS: You certainly seem to be moving toward that place in history. I have repeatedly read that your work is a continuation in the historic line of Seydou Keïta. From a more contemporary point of view, critics also relate your work to that of Samuel Fosso.

LV: I can see why they view my work as a continuation from Seydou Keïta and Samuel Fosso, … because I specialize in portraiture and it is my love, as well as self-portraiture. And that is what Samuel has really been good at. Look, Africa in general is often shown in a harsh and difficult light and therefore the Malian photographers [like Seydou Keïta] decided to show the other side of this image of Africa – and that we all do! [But] I am one who is still finding out how theorists and critics operate, and most times find that its easy and lazy for them to just think of these two great photographers along with my work. My experimentation with film (colour film in which I was never trained nor printed), as well as the way I take the photographs (asking the subject for permission), and the location (the streets of Johannesburg particularly) has not been considered. Or if considered, it has been [de-emphasized] in the writings. Also the problem I think for them was that they would rather not liken my work to the Japanese photographer [Shoichi Aoki] who made the books Fruits, as academically it would undermine my work or something along those lines – [so] I have heard. But also I often wonder if there was no Seydou Keïta or Malick Sidibé – who they would liken my work to.

SSS: Your reference to Shoichi Aoki’s Fruits is very relevant and quite fascinating. Has this been an important influence for you? The Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder series in fact seems quite informed by Aoki’s Fruits.

LV: Concerning the Japanese influence – one day, one page, I saw one picture that stayed and tortured my mind since 1995. I tore the page kept it, protected it from water, fire and all the elements. I even traveled with it to Johannesburg. I do not know if this was Shoichi Aoki’s work but I loved the Japan I saw with that one image. It is of a “Lolita”¹ wearing a dark modern Victorian dress with a little handbag. [It evoked what] I had experienced in Cape Town [among] art students with no money for clothes in high school and at the Technikon, when they simply made their own. I could not afford a school bag. I sewed mine with a jean material I found at home and drew Garfield with funky colours outside as he was my favourite cartoon and my colleagues envied my bag.

So yes, in 2002 I starved in Switzerland for a week because I finally found a full-paged Fruits book by Shoichi and I bought it without twinkling an eye. My work has been influenced by many things… Identity was and is still high on my agenda.

¹ Sometime in the mid-nineties a fashion emerged among young Japanese women mimicking Victorian porcelain dolls “…wearing cute voluminous frilly and lacey knee length dresses, frill top socks and Mary Janes”. Referred to as “Gothic Lolita”, the look was taken up by Japanese pop stars and celebrities. According to the web-site Avant Gauche, “Gothic Lolita is still going strong in Japan, where every weekend in the Harajuku district of Tokyo sweetly dressed young women congregate to chat and giggle and have their pictures taken by beguiled tourists. Now mainly thanks to publications like [Shoichi Aoki’s] Fruits,

You have said that you distrust the portrait since it doesn’t convey the truth. What, then, is it supposed to convey?

I think my comments about distrusting the portrait and the death of photography were made quite boldly and possibly in an inebriated state! But sometimes I look at my work and how people read it, and it has no relationship to what I might have experienced in taking the picture or what I might get from it. There’s no absolute truth in what a portrait can convey.

I think the way I view photography is closer to poetry than to documentary. This makes me think of filmmaker Werner Herzog who says he is not interested in relaying an accountant’s truth in his documentaries. It’s one thing to portray something and to give an inventory of facts, and another to use those facts to your own ends, to achieve something that Herzog defines as an ecstatic truth, an experiential truth.

I think this is something that can be related to portraits. Mostly, I am not particularly interested in conveying the actual truth about a person – and I would be extremely distrustful if that was someone’s intention. But a portrait can definitely convey some