https://ir.unisa.ac.za/handle/10500/27329 2026-06-11T20:06:53Z 2026-06-11T20:06:53Z Miller, Gwenneth https://ir.unisa.ac.za/handle/10500/32602 2026-06-11T12:00:49Z 2025-04-02T00:00:00Z

Agency of Objects Miller, Gwenneth A three-month residency in Europe culminated in an itinerant solo titled “Agency of objects”. The research embraced the challenge to imbue objects with anecdotes and stories that I encountered in the brief visits to Ponte de Mucela, Porto, and Madrid and the extended stay in Paris. The experience sensitised me to the lives of individuals immersed in times of interruption whilst striving to sustain a livelihood. As I identified objects of interest, I questioned the way these objects suggest socio-cultural context and searched for ways to mediate an impelling presence of belonging. The research probed the extent to which objects can reveal something about relationships between people in transit and looked for modes of presentation that could suggest the agency of objects. The aim to immerse myself in situ, further searched for ways to respond empathically to place and engagements, therefore probing the ability of inanimate objects to enable socio-cultural capacity. Archaeologist Christopher Tilley (2001:260) wrote that meaning is generated “out of situated, contextualised social action which is in continuous dialectical relationship” within structures, through media and with an outcome of action. It is thus from the use and context of objects that their agency arises, and furthermore, writing suggests that recontextualised objects can have the ability to enact change. This also alludes to the dialectical nature of art methodologies applied. The series of twelve small drawings emerged through observation of discarded tools, damaged by the wildfires of 2017 in Portugal – tools used by local inhabitants to work the land and build their shelters. The “Tool” series is site-specific for more reasons: the ink was made from disintegrating walnut husks by my host and current resident artist Celia de Villers. She created the ink on the site where the walnut tree grows and where the recent fire scorched these tools. The selection was also conceptual and metaphoric, as the objects and their shadows speak of transience and people passing through a place with hope for a future. Lexicons of cyclical regeneration occur in the paintings I studied in Madrid: a gutted fish or a skull in Dutch still-lives, an empty paper plate of a passer-by, or the disappearing person in a faded tapestry. The wall of sketches and prints on “Agency of objects” evidenced thinking through objects as markers of time, acknowledging comfort and discomfort in the finitude of life. The “agentive turn in social theory” can be linked as a scholarly framework within this theme, as it contextualises agency of humans and objects as relative (Tilley 2001:109, in Ethnography and Material Culture). Furthermore, body of work contributes to discourse around material culture, mirroring critical reflection of contemporary value systems as discussed by Appadurai (1986) in The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective. Living on-site in Paris, where artists come and go, I also become aware and very moved by the refugees of the city. The elongated structure of the Citè building offers a roof over the refugees as they pitch their tents every evening, just to dismantle them every morning. My exhibition carefully considered placement as part of the composition; for example, a floor installation of paintings particularly pondered the 'throw-away' existence of the tent dwellers. The body of work contributes to reflection of the tension between belonging and not belonging of objects in relation to global currencies and shifting uncertainties. Grouping of two- and three-dimensional works further presented abstracted objects on stilted structures. The constructed objects express the action of chopping, hammering and cleaving to contemplate the context of labourers who eke out a living. Working with the material of breakfast cereal packaging suggested a continuation of the cycle that started with implements used to work the land. The 3-D sketches became animated in their suggested movement and were further developed through mixed media collages and an elongated 3.6-metre painting. The well-attended exhibition opening of “Agency of Objects” took place at the Cité internationale des arts, Paris (April), and a second rendition of the show was held at Gordart Stokvel Gallery in September 2025, with the addition of several etchings and ink drawings. Stokvel Gallery is in one of Melville Centre's 27 storage containers – a space conceptually extending the theme of transitory nature. For more information see the link to the artist's webpage above: https://www.gwennethmiller.com/agency-of-objects

2025-04-02T00:00:00Z Miller, Gwenneth https://ir.unisa.ac.za/handle/10500/32600 2026-06-11T12:20:16Z 2025-10-07T00:00:00Z

omgekeerd Miller, Gwenneth The exhibition “omgekeerd” flickered to life when returning home after an extended sojourn outside South Africa. The title of the exhibition “on the contrary” also related to the Momentum Aardklop25 festival theme of “What Lies Beneath". My research and encounters with homeless people in makeshift dwellings in Paris begged for a new perspective upon my return. Homecoming was an experience of disorientation – a feeling of being suspended. New work towards 'omgekeerd' challenged the emotional understanding of the sanctity of home. The problem of an anchored existence is globally highlighted by issues of social disruption, often by factors beyond an individual’s control. However, there is also a legacy of willingly surrendering comfort for the purpose of understanding unfamiliar worlds. The discomfort of travel raises personal questions and may offer new insights into one’s sense of belonging. In my own studio, I delved into memories of my navigation via maps in the Drakensberg. These artworks include places where my late husband and I had hiked. Linear elements echoed my collection of old “Slingsby” maps and my memory of walking the mountains. My multiple experiences of hiking and travelling challenge the perception of space and one’s ego in the larger scheme of things. The images of tents being blown away in “Makeshift” and “The Trail" became metaphors for our world of unease and discord. These works expressed my strong awareness of our malleable identities and how we constantly tinker to find our position in society. In “omgekeerd” this iterative process reflects on the impact of place and relations as constantly evolving. When hiking in unfamiliar terrain, one seems hyper-alert to find the way, often reliant on devices and co-travellers. Eventually, you flow into meditative silence. I used the tortoise shell in “Becoming Mountain” as a metaphor for slow time and sight. Both this drawing and “The Trail" extended beyond the images, as the paper was a collaboration with Phumani Papers. I embedded snippets of drawings, layering the paper into an organic ‘terrain’. Colour drawings were made on rice paper, gifted by another artist; thus, the action of creating material was contemplative and interwoven. The installation "Al lê die berge nog so blou" consisted of an ‘isodome’ tent, used over two decades whilst camping. This tent, in its apparent flimsy materiality, was a place of safety. The six panels, rendered in charcoal and beeswax, tracked walking routes and contour lines referencing trails. In the tent were often-used maps, a backpack and mattresses. The tent installation with chair became an interactive resting space for festival viewers, where many people shared their stories of the ‘berg’. Here the diverse recollection with a public beyond the art world formed a kinship and was an opportunity for newcomers to learn about how art conveys lived experiences. In preparation, I visited ‘Snowflake’ in Potchefstroom and recorded details of this historical venue dating back to 1921. Documentation of the scars and scratches on beams is an abstract record of history. The patina and marks on the pillars of the building resonated with topographical maps in the artworks in the installation. The exposed bricks and metal fixtures recall the old mill as a site of labour and human relationships. The mounting on 30cm threaded rods of the painterly drawing “You will always be in contact” created an ethereal rendition of my personal history and took cognisance of the unknowable stories of other lives that had passed through this space. The artworks underscore the philosophy of "revitalising effects” but not resemblance, as phrased by Martin Crowley (2013:372, in Deleuze on Painting 67:3, July:371-385). My aim was to contribute to the resonance and energy of specific spaces and facilitate socio-cultural reflection. The well-attended exhibition opening of “omgekeerd” at the Snowflake Venue in October 2025 was opened by Dr Combrink. Network24 published the review titled “Snowflake will turn your earthbeat upside down” and in Afrikaans “Dié visuele kuns by Snowflake sal jou Aardklop omkeer.” The exhibition “omgekeerd” took place alongside a group exhibition “Vice Versa”, which I curated with the concept of a dialogue between worlds. Both my curated and solo exhibitions were nominated as best exhibitions alongside those of Clinton Lubbe and Jaco van Schalkwyk, who eventually was the winner. Further information can be found at the artist's webpage https://www.gwennethmiller.com/omgekeerd-2025

2025-10-07T00:00:00Z Miller, Gwenneth https://ir.unisa.ac.za/handle/10500/32158 2026-02-16T20:19:20Z 2024-09-14T00:00:00Z

The Measure of Matter Miller, Gwenneth The travelling solo exhibition “The Measure of Matter” consists of 21 new works reimagining spines and objects to consider being bound by time and matter. The first installation was in the two front rooms of the Tina Skukan Gallery and the second installation took place at the White River Art Gallery, where the narrative flow was reconceptualised. The research was triggered by the physical problem of struggling to walk due to Spondylitis. In the months before the pending operation, the artist studied the anatomy and contemplated frailty. Images of the skeleton and the spine transmuted into an interest in the spines of old books, existential mapping devices and objects associated with mortality and the interrogation of what really matters. The artworks address a shared reality: we are all bound by time and matter and the anxieties of an uncertain future. The preliminary research considered how the artist could extend personal experiences into works that would resonate with the audience, bringing its own history and realities to the exhibition. The painting “Platteland” was a reworking of the brush art created the previous year, but here the artist added water to suggest a journey of the object as ‘body’ on the way elsewhere. It was the work that triggered the association and link with weathered bones. Drawing the past into the present, alchemic yellow tones were applied in works such as “Map to nowhere (becoming something)" and the darkly humorous dancing “Salome I” and “Salome II”. Interestingly, the Biblical Salome is vilified by Jung in his Red Book (2009), although he equates her with the soul. Initially anatomy was approached as a mechanistic system of levels until the body’s incredible ability to grow new bone was experienced, restructuring the old into something new. Bridgman’s (1972) “The human machine” introduced the artist to the atlas bone that supports the human skull. It is named after the titan Atlas, who, in Greek mythology, supported the world on his shoulders. The painting "Atlas" was accompanied by “Load Bearing", depicting an overloaded truck – begging the question of burden – albeit with some sense of humour. Bridgman’s images of the human spine reminded of weathered books kept intact by a network of stubborn threads, like tendons binding muscle and bone. These inspired the creation of “All that matters” and “The spine study” series. At Skukan Art Gallery, the series was positioned to form a dialogue with the permanent sculptural works that related to objects of labour, but the installation was reformatted and retitled at White River Art Gallery, to “A library of time from Göttingen”, as the space seemed to demand a different reading. In high-resolution photography the books were treated as if they were portraits, commemorating time with subtitles such as “Becoming wood” and “Dictionary of the disappearing”. Conceptually, weather mapping was considered to contemplate fresh winds blowing life into matter. The chronicle flow was a method to renew thinking about illness as a cyclical part of life. Visual associations were layered until the medium and material began to communicate meaningful new associations. Torn layers of paper and thickly applied charcoal evidenced awareness as embodied thinking. Much like the atlas bone, our spiritual compass decides what matters and what does not, and how we measure its bearing and influence. These works form an interdisciplinary conversation with reflections on psychology, new-material culture and research on ‘falling upwards' in life, to borrow Richard Rohr’s words. In this sense the work contributes to new understanding, bridging the above fields in visualisation. “The Measure of Matter” exhibitions and several walkabouts were well attended at both Tina Skukan Gallery and White River Art Gallery. Opportunities for academic talks were optimised as the audience attended the solo and the solo of Elfriede Dreyer, which were presented alongside each other but as separate research. Both spaces have a good following and are well-established institutions. Bridgman, GB. 1972. The human machine. New York: Dover. Jung, CG. 2009. The Red Book: Liber Novus. Edited by S. Shamdasani. New York: Norton. See the link to the artist's website at the top of this page

2024-09-14T00:00:00Z Dreyer, Elfriede https://ir.unisa.ac.za/handle/10500/32075 2025-02-03T08:12:26Z 2024-03-01T00:00:00Z

The Piano Dreyer, Elfriede The Piano (2024) entailed the production of 19 new works for a solo exhibition at IS Gallery in Stellenbosch. For this exhibition I also included two works – Song of the philosopher 1 and 2 – from my 2023 Song of the philosopher exhibition at Rust-en-Vrede Gallery in Durbanville, since in that series I already commenced my semiotic investigation into the relationship of word to image. These works contain sound wave imagery and were thus appropriate for the The Piano exhibition. The latter project also includes an online exhibition catalogue and the works remain permanently available for viewing at www.elfriededreyer.com/the-piano. In these works I approach my piano as a heterotopian object in the Foucauldian sense of functioning as a site of layered narrative, memory, and transformation. As a heterotopian object it exists in a layered conceptual space of blurring boundaries between past and present, personal and collective. It is simultaneously a material instrument and an emotional vessel, a site of disciplined practice and imaginative escape, a survivor of destruction and a symbol of continuity. I consider the piano as a vessel for memory and loss, resonating with the aftermath of the 2017 Knysna Great Fire in which I lost everything except my piano. I aimed to revive and recollect memories of childhood rituals of disciplined repetition—practicing scales, arpeggios, and other technical exercises. These acts of mechanical rigour have been a source for polyphonic imagery and narrative, where obsessive repetition, production, and remembrance accumulate into a layered sonic and conceptual landscape. My methodology of layering of materials, images and digital elements echoes the cumulative nature of memory and experience. The Piano (2024) entailed the production of 19 new works for a solo exhibition at IS Gallery in Stellenbosch. For this exhibition I also included two works – Song of the philosopher 1 and 2 – from my 2023 Song of the philosopher exhibition at Rust-en-Vrede Gallery in Durbanville, since in that series I already commenced my semiotic investigation into the relationship of word to image. These works contain sound wave imagery and were thus appropriate for the The Piano exhibition. The latter project also includes an online exhibition catalogue and the works remain permanently available for viewing at www.elfriededreyer.com/the-piano. In my theoretical research as well as my past creative practice, I investigate spaces, places, and worlds—whether natural, artificial, or invented. They are hypothesised as layered and complex, revealing the convolutions of human action and invention. I project theoretical frameworks of utopia, dystopia, and heterotopia onto the selected spaces and places; and again in the The Piano works I approached my piano as a heterotopian object in the Foucauldian sense of functioning as a site of layered narrative, memory, and transformation. My piano has been my companion for many decades, forming the conceptual and material foundation of my artistic inquiry. A pivotal moment in my relationship with the piano occurred in 2017, during the devastation of the Knysna Great Fire, which reduced all my earthly possessions to ash and clinker. My piano, however, survived—not by chance, but by absence. This absence transformed it into a metaphor of creative obsession, intensifying my emotional connection with the instrument and its role in my life. It now represents not only my girlhood but also my identity as a mother and an artist, forming an ontogenetic presence that reflects my journey toward maturity. In the works for The Piano, I considered the piano as a vessel for memory and loss, resonating with the aftermath of the fire. As a heterotopian object it exists in a layered conceptual space of blurring boundaries between past and present, personal and collective. It is simultaneously a material instrument and an emotional vessel, a site of disciplined practice and imaginative escape, a survivor of destruction and a symbol of continuity. I aimed to revive and recollect memories of childhood rituals of disciplined repetition—practicing scales, arpeggios, and other technical exercises. These acts of mechanical rigour have been a source for polyphonic imagery and narrative, where obsessive repetition, production, and remembrance accumulate into a layered sonic and conceptual landscape. My methodology of layering of materials, images, and digital elements echoes the cumulative nature of memory and experience. Beyond its physicality, the piano as a musical instrument conjures imaginative journeys. Its black-and-white keys, inner mechanical structure, hammers, and harp evoke both the rational precision of musical notation and the boundless creativity of improvisation. The juxtaposition of ebony and ivory not only produces tonal contrasts but also symbolises the interplay of light and dark, life and death—an ever-present theme in my work. The piano’s wooden cabinet, with its rounded contours, becomes a birthing locus of creation. It is both a container and a producer of worlds, a maternal presence that generates and recites sound. In this way, it mirrors the mothering body, which brings forth new life through biomorphic processes yet allows for genetic variation and improvisation. This maternal resonance extends to my broader artistic imagery, particularly the recurring motif of the withered angel trumpet flower. This flower, in its dried form, symbolises the cyclical nature of life and death, resonating with the themes of loss and regeneration embodied by the piano. In my visual practice, these flowers become dancers—flor de muertos—engaged in a ritual of remembrance and renewal. Their presence underscores the intertwining of past and present, decay and rebirth, silence and sound. As an artist working in both physical and digital media, my work embraces intermediality, enabling fluid dialogues between tangible materials and ephemeral digital realms. Ultimately, my piano is not just a musical instrument—it is a heterotopian micro-world that encapsulates my personal history, artistic practice, and conceptual preoccupations. It serves as a repository of loss, a medium of disciplined practice, and a generator of new creative forms.

2024-03-01T00:00:00Z