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Transcript of Life Under Democracy
DALE YUDELMAN
UN
DE
r D
EM
oc
rA
cY
YU
DE
LM
AN
DALE
9 781431 406135
ISBN 978-1-4314-0613-5www.jacana.co.za
IN A DIgItAL worLD rIDDLED wIth UNprEcEDENtED vIsUAL trAffIc,
LIfE UNDEr DEMocrAcY Is A provocAtIvE EssAY of coNtrAst
AND socIAL coMMENtArY ExEcUtED IN YUDELMAN’s INIMItAbLY EDgY
stYLE, IN cohorts wIth NEw-gENErAtIoN tEchNoLogY.
DALE YUDELMAN dumps the baggage
of oversized photographic equipment and
heads unbarred into the bottomless
aufaitness of the life to which we have
grown accustomed.
screaming like motherless newborns,
his images smack the life into what we so
easily perceive as ordinary… Yudelman
delivers a personal, sometimes scathing,
and often humorous account of our unruly
and evolving democracy.
In a digital world riddled with
unprecedented visual traffi c, Life under
Democracy is a provocative essay of
contrast and social commentary executed
in Yudelman’s inimitably edgy style, in
cohorts with new-generation technology.
A salient social documentary,
inoculated against sensationalism,
traditionalism and drudgery. A work that
invests in the power of smaller moments
and features intimate and ‘un-canned’
images of south Africans in their
eighteenth year of freedom. A series that
speaks with resounding clarity on how the
politics of the day fi lters into reality.
Dale Cover-FA.indd 1 2012/08/06 12:37 PM
2
At a pavement café, behind dark, ever-present Ray-Bans, Yudelman sits
watching a woman walk down the sun-beaten road. With each step the
city’s pavements gnaw at her soles – vigorously testing the mettle of the
voluptuously proportioned Winnie-the-Pooh slippers adorning her feet.
Rising mid-Americano, inwardly delighting at the colourfully shod
parade heading his way, he fumbles an apology and takes off after
the fl amboyant pair. Nobody minds the curt exit. Waiters instinctively
know he’ll be back; friends accept that being in his vicinity places
them on a permanent photo shoot.
Yudelman swings into his approaching-without-malice gait – best
described as an unaffected stroll. A casual air is a necessary posture
for a tall man about to converge on the path of a stranger.
For a while, he says nothing, keeping a safe, friendly following
distance. The entire odyssey – from noticing to the point of making
contact – has set off a mixture of purposeful calculation and a heady
desire to enthrone the pyjama-shoes in all their chunky, why-are-you-
on-this-pavement glory.
Inconsistent conditions and never-to-be repeated moments
are what make this uncertain playground an infi nitely compelling
storybook of unfolding possibilities.
After several decades of wielding an array of fi lm and later digital
cameras, considerations such as light, background and best angles are
calibrations that go on automatically in his brain.
The question of relevance hovers nearby, like a reliable but
overbearing parent. Undeterred, Yudelman stays close to the
fascination. Instinct tells him the bright yellow pavement specials
have an interesting tale to tell.
But fi rst, there is the matter of clearing some personal barriers:
his innate shyness and a culturally ingrained precept of respecting
the privacy of others. This is possibly the least comfortable moment of
street photography – striking up a conversation with an unknown entity.
By now, he has shadowed the woman far enough to gauge something
of her state of mind. She notices his genuine interest. Somehow they
begin to talk. And there on the tarmac, in the sunshine, a story unfolds.
In the fi rst few seconds, it’s about the warm weather, an easy
unifi er, they both experience this day as equals: it is on this even
plane that Yudelman prefers to keep this kind of interaction. Sensing
her openness, he compliments the celebrity slippers and asks if he
can take a picture with his phone.
Caught up in the playful web of his request, stopping for a
snapshot seems reasonably normal. After taking a few pics, he shows
her how they look, she’s happy they only reveal the smiley bears – and
not the face belonging to the scarred legs that have just left the day
clinic, about to carry her to a night shelter a couple of blocks away.
Dale Pre&Post-FA.indd 2 2012/08/13 8:14 AM
3
Quarrying for answers in the murky regions of the blindingly familiar
is what Dale Yudelman does best. In his testament of the lives of
fellow South Africans, in a country deep in the throes of a pubescent
democracy, people, events and even objects become part of
contemplative essays interpreting how front page news permeates into
the fabric of the collective experience.
Life under Democracy was inspired by the Ernest Cole exhibition
at the National Gallery in Cape Town, in February 2011. Cole’s images
feature life under apartheid. Yudelman’s series looks at life under
democracy after eighteen years of liberation.
Many of the images were shot in passing and are personal
daily reflections, while others involve more deliberate excursions.
In Life under Democracy, Yudelman returns to the areas he
photographed in the eighties, for the series Suburbs in Paradise,
which cross-examines white suburbia under the influence of
legislated segregation.
To gain perspective, he also visits some of the people and areas
Cole photographed. A sense of how much has changed begins to
develop and, in some cases, how much has stayed the same.
In a country where old anger is amplified by new barriers
imposed in the course of its almost two decades of democratic
rule, where infringements of power and corruption bear the same
watermark as the injustices of apartheid, the question he asks is:
How would Mr Cole feel about the freedom he dedicated his life
to achieving?
As if in conversation, Yudelman uses his iPhone camera as a means
of discourse. The senses are unified through a device historically
utilised for discussion, in turn mirroring the merging of a nation whose
past is omnipresent.
His images easily bear the burden of portraying issues and feelings
as distinctly as if they were actual objects. Transforming the social
experience into knowable, tangible material where the viewer gains
access to the emotion of the moment, enables further research along
tributaries feeding the cause or circumstance.
Yudelman’s observations are benefited by a photographic career
beginning in the late seventies, starting out as a photojournalist for The
Star newspaper at the height of the political turmoil in South Africa.
For the past fifteen years his focus has been on his personal work,
with exhibitions shown in galleries around the world. His artistic bent
for decoding social landscapes is fully realised in the art space –
producing work infused with a quirky visual vernacular.
Life under Democracy reveals a nation learning to live beyond the
confines and within the liberties of two opposing systems: the first,
extinct but not silenced; the second, crafted with the highest hopes
of freedom in mind. The story is of our response and participation in
realising the full extent of those dreams as viewed through the eyes of
a well-versed protagonist.
His experiences of past and present set the co-ordinates for this
self-imposed brief. Yudelman scours the foreground of the public
domain, where he taps into the backstory, looking for less tangible
indicators of change.
The opening image presents the first democratic ballot paper
issued in 1994. Eighteen years later this early relic of freedom is
considered old enough to be sold along with other memorabilia in an
antique store, its price tag serving as a reminder of the time when the
idea of a democratic South Africa was, for the oppressed, a prized
imperative; for others, a dangerous idea: and for all, a highly charged
proposition in the silhouette of a prejudiced unknown.
A sprawling cultural diversity as profound and disparate as South
Africa’s is no more obvious than at heritage sites. While the history
is based on the same facts, the similarities begin to disappear when
examining the emotional content of memories and the impact they
have on the psyches of different ethnic groups.
The series gives an insight into the challenges of remembering
the past and understanding the scale of what is implied in finding
meaningful validation for all. Among such jagged recollections: one
man’s hero is another man’s villain – where even God is not innocent.
At the other end of the rainbow, Yudelman highlights a child
playfully hanging from the rifle of an unknown Boer soldier, a statue
at the Paul Kruger Monument in Church Square, Tshwane. The child
almost blends into the sculpture, becoming a living addendum to the
bronzed past (p21).
Straddling the impressions of our adolescent democracy, Yudelman
gives a lucid account of the socio-political topography with all its
awkward insecurities, frustrations and rebelliousness. Within these
reflections, we see the concerns of a fledgling nation afraid to be seen
to be becoming like its betrayers; and how these replications in some
instances already go beyond a prediction.
The assertion of a new national identity, complicated by a
disfiguring and dysfunctional past, is currently pock-marked by greed,
corruption, high levels of unemployment and dropping standards in
healthcare, education and general living.
As much as he points out and celebrates individuals within the
multitudes, confident in their full and unrestrained national voice,
applying for equality, in search of equilibrium and a sense of worth,
so he also refers to the angst of a country – in and out of step with
an evolving understanding of itself: the practice and the concept of
democratic freedom.
Dale Pre&Post-FA.indd 3 2012/08/06 3:38 PM
4
Studying the emergent horizon, the work gives a transactional
analysis of the scale of cultural exchange required, and the
subcutaneous issues of racial division. It reviews the chasms created
by the racial segregationist policies of the apartheid government,
which led to South Africans becoming economically and culturally
dualistic and disassociated.
The signs and symbols pictured in the series reference inter-cultural
engagements and present responses in surprising places: a woman
wearing Orlando Pirates earrings – a sport and team better known in this
country for its predominantly black male supporters (p181).
Another image that uses this style of referencing is ‘woman and
doll’ (p91). Here the image provides a gateway to the complicated
levels of social integration, which, while essentially portraying a
positive shift, is also laced with ambivalence around white people
adopting black babies. The price on the doll flaunts the idea that it is
easier to adopt a black child, as there are many more black children
up for adoption due to poverty and the problem of an ever-escalating
number of AIDS orphans. Although this practice is quite accepted,
there are still the concerns around children losing their cultural
heritage through cross-cultural adoptions.
Life under Democracy unravels a succession of stories within
a story; a multi-layered transcription articulated with an effortless
visual fluency. Yudelman is not merely quoting from reality, but, like
any good storyteller, allowing his subjects to describe themselves.
Revelling in the spontaneous spirit of South Africans, the work mirrors
a nation full of promise and an extraordinary ability to be expansive.
In spite of the difficulties they experience, and sometimes
because of the on-going challenges, their lives are a compelling
demonstration of strength and unfettered resilience in the face
of boundless uncertainty. Values become apparent through the
portrayal of the spaces in which they work and pray, what they
eat and where they shop. The essay draws attention to profound
instances of devotion in caring for fellow citizens; impossible
miracles requiring enormous strength of character; and a capacity
for nerve-straining enterprise.
Yudelman began experimenting with the concept of using his
iPhone for documentary images shortly before the inaugural Ernest
Cole Award was announced. On winning the award, he made a point –
as part of the Life under Democracy series – to visit Mamelodi Township
where Cole grew up (p217).
During his meeting with the Kole1 family members – some of
whom still live in the same house – he was introduced to Moses
Mogale, now a well-known jazz musician and music teacher in the
community (p193).
The iPhone camera finds its destiny providentially and immutably
altered in Yudelman’s masterful hands. Throughout the series he
utilises the square-format hipstamatic app which simulates the effects
of the old-fashioned disposable film and Polaroid cameras. Designed
to produce the unpredictable results of the early darkroom, it randomly
saturates the image with colour, or washes it out. With a selection of
built-in digitised retro lenses, films and flashes, it conjures up some of
the alchemy of the once highly chemical process of developing.
The intensified field created by the formatting matches Life under
Democracy’s investment in interpreting the fine print of daily life.
Unhindered by oversized equipment, he achieves a visual rapport that
is exquisite and robust all at once. His portraits are vibrant, poetic
studies of the constant stream of conversation between people and
their environment – intimate disclosures of the interior realm of his
subjects spilling into view.
Using spatially compelling compositions, Yudelman maintains a
tight grip on the material world by limiting the amount of information
in the image.
Intrigued by the ironies of life he invites the viewer to share his
amusement at the contradictions that surround us. ‘Protests’ (p28)
shows the second day of heavily-supported protest action in Cape Town.
Demonstrators in full cry are about to go on a blind rampage. In the
scene, to the left of the crowd and from his position in the middle of the
drama, he still manages to throw in a headline from the previous day,
which reads, ‘Municipal strike gets off to a SLOW start.’ It is at these
junctures that Yudelman ambushes what might have been a straight
photojournalistic shot and successfully expands the image to include a
mischievous comment on mass media and its defining role within reality.
Commanding subtleties form powerful optical snares in league
with Yudelman’s ethics of eschewing brash imagery (unless absolutely
required), allowing what he chooses to leave out of the frame to speak
as distinctly as what he chooses to include.
From the floor of a flea market in Cape Town, he invokes a chilling
omen commenting on the fate of the rhino – a wooden statuette of
the pre-historic creature with the horn missing (p74). Impossible
conversations, spanning alternate dimensions, are a defining feature
in this series: the viewer is easily guided to the place where what is
salient is not overshadowed by sensationalism.
Photographing on the street means that a considerable amount of
his time is spent sifting through the clenched reality of everydayness,
always in search of yet another clarifying dimension. His images
reveal the rich chronicles that flow beneath the surface of the flurried
ordinary. It is within the backdrop of these surprisingly regular mirrors
that we see ourselves with heightened clarity.
1. Cole, born Kole, managed to have himself reclassified as ‘coloured’ in order to evade the Pass Laws restricting the movement of black people.
Dale Pre&Post-FA.indd 4 2012/08/13 8:26 AM
5
1. Freedom, 1974 | 2. The Star press card, 1979 | 3. Wits University protest, 1982 | 4. Transformation invitation, 1984 | 5. Livestock – collaboration with
Arlene Amaler-Raviv, 2003 | 6. Reality Bytes, 2002 | 7. i am… 2007 | 8. Made in RSA, 2010 | 9. Suburbs in Paradise, 1983 | 10. In a City, 2011
1
4
2
5 6
7
9
3
10
8
Dale Pre&Post-FA.indd 5 2012/08/06 3:39 PM
6
The viewer’s question might be: ‘How do we walk past the same
thing and not see this?’ The answer points to the integrity of the
storyteller’s unflinchingly sensitive gaze, the nearness of our own
isolation and our estrangement from what surrounds us.
This realisation is not for the observer to bear alone. Yudelman’s
unique viewpoint remains a reliable presence throughout; a redeeming
dose of sanity. Just as things become too stark he zooms in on a
security guard wearing a maroon beret, standing beside a newspaper
billboard that exclaims, ‘Malema berets sell like hot cakes’ (p116).
Yudelman is a credible witness: fascinated enough to invest in the
smaller slices of life in search of a greater truth. Seeking to interpret
the many facets of shared experience, he displays a willingness to
interact and the patience to be constantly noticing.
Having a camera conveniently lodged in his phone, Yudelman is
prone to replace words with images. In company he can appear to be
distant, preferring to live the emotional content of his life through
his photographs. It is in his work that his infinitely social nature
becomes apparent.
Except for indulging a lifelong appetite for rock music,
Yudelman’s time is spent on a career-sustaining assortment of visual
excursions – art galleries, spending time at flea markets and antique
stores searching for collectibles, with a particular interest in the
design elements of retro packaging and signage.
Despite an above-average aversion to large noisy gatherings and
an inclination to expend as few words as possible, he is popular in
academia and at photographic conventions for delivering dry-witted,
insightful talks and lectures on his craft.
Part of the appeal lies in his technical agility and his capacity to
talk about Photoshop and digital post production as knowledgeably as
traditional wet-finger photography. Committed to creating images that
penetrate reality, Yudelman remains a close conspirator of the ongoing
advances within the medium. His overriding ethic, regardless of the
equipment he is using is: ‘Keep it interesting.’
From the outset, circumstances seemed to pre-empt destiny, with
photography making an early claim on Yudelman’s soul. As a toddler,
his nursery doubled as a darkroom for his father, Louis Yudelman.
Family legend has it that the residual chemicals from those early days
got into his bloodstream, and firmly inculcated a life-long passion for
image making.
He first began taking pictures with a vintage Argus C3, at age 10,
and was later given an Asahi Pentax 35 mm at 14. In his early teens,
he and his father, still a well-respected and practicing photographer,
attended camera club meetings together at the public library in
Johannesburg.
His mother, the late Evelyn Yudelman, was highly creative, well
known for her glasswork and mosaic murals. She took great pride in
her son’s blossoming talent and, in his youth, the two went on regular
excursions into the countryside looking for stimulating subject matter.
The nurturing support of both his parents has played a powerful role
throughout his career.
At 16 he won the National Schools Photographic Salon with
a photograph of his mother running through the woods. At 17, he
became the youngest associate of the Photographic Society of
South Africa.
Before he turned 20, Yudelman held his first solo exhibition
at the Pentax Gallery in Rosebank, Johannesburg and in 1984, he
held a fondly-remembered group exhibition (Transformation) with his
father and two brothers, at the Market Theatre Gallery in Newtown,
Johannesburg.
From 1979, he worked at The Star newspaper as a staff
photographer until his departure from South Africa in 1986, after
becoming disillusioned when the apartheid government declared a
state of emergency and harsh censorship laws were imposed on the
media. First moving to London and later Los Angeles, he freelanced
for various newspapers, design agencies and magazines, before
returning to South Africa a decade later.
The focal point of Yudelman’s career, since his return, has been to
produce images extracted from his immediate environment and prompted
by the belief that there is enough to talk about in his own back yard.
Having been showcased in over seventy exhibitions locally and
internationally, Yudelman’s photographs are held in many private and
corporate collections worldwide.
The work is a consequence of a studied eye, brokered over
30 years of constant image making. Enthralled with the many-layered
dimensions of reality, his anthology of images is a manifestation of
how modern photography is able to escape the bounds of the ‘record’,
creating an authentic and evocative account of recent times.
– Simone Tredoux
Dale Pre&Post-FA.indd 6 2012/08/13 8:29 AM
10 Electronic information board – Houses of Parliament – Cape Town
Dale Setting-FA.indd 10 2012/08/06 4:16 PM
11President Jacob Zuma election poster – Imizamo Yethu, Hout Bay, Cape Town
Dale Setting-FA.indd 11 2012/08/06 4:16 PM
12 Old South African flag on badges – Day of Reconciliation – Voortrekker Monument, Tshwane
Dale Setting-FA.indd 12 2012/08/06 4:16 PM
30 Striking municipal workers loot vendor’s stall – Cape Town
Dale Setting-FA.indd 30 2012/08/06 4:16 PM
31Yudelman appears on front page of Cape Times – Cape Town
Dale Setting-FA.indd 31 2012/08/06 4:16 PM
32 Newspaper billboards – Cape Town, Johannesburg, Tshwane
Dale Setting-FA.indd 32 2012/08/06 4:17 PM
119Air freshener – Voortrekker Monument toilet – Tshwane
Dale Setting-FA.indd 119 2012/08/06 4:18 PM
191Musician – Cape Town | Nevis Cameron – Melville, Johannesburg | Derick Mokwena – Johannesburg | Musician – Kalk Bay, Cape Town
Dale Setting-FA.indd 191 2012/08/06 4:20 PM
193Sakie Ndala – Mamelodi Moses Mogale – Jazz musician – Mamelodi
Dale Setting-FA.indd 193 2012/08/06 4:20 PM
221Nelson Mandela Square – Day of Reconciliation – Sandton City, Johannesburg
Dale Setting-FA.indd 221 2012/08/06 4:21 PM
99
The Ernest Cole Photography Award is a new award in South Africa,
initiated under the auspices of the University of Cape Town Libraries,
offering a unique opportunity for photographers to complete an existing
project. The award, named after documentary photographer Ernest Cole,
was made possible by the generous support of the Peter Brown Trust, the
Gavin Relly Educational Trust, the Kirsch Family Trust and Orms.
Ernest Cole was born in South Africa in 1940 and received his fi rst
camera as a gift from a clergyman. Before leaving South Africa in the
mid 1960s he worked as a photojournalist for Drum magazine, sharing a
darkroom and friendship with photographer Struan Robertson. On his own
initiative Cole undertook a comprehensive photographic essay in which he
showed what it meant to be black under apartheid. Out of this came the
book, The House of Bondage, which was published in New York in 1967,
and immediately banned in South Africa. He never returned to South
Africa and died in exile in New York in 1990.
Cole was a courageous documentarian who at times risked his life
to share his imagery with the world. ‘He wasn’t just brave. He wasn’t just
enterprising. He was a supremely fi ne photographer,’ said David Goldblatt,
the renowned South African photographer.
The Ernest Cole Photography Award has been established to stimulate
in-depth photography in South Africa, with an emphasis on creative
responses to South African society, human rights and justice. The
award is open to anyone whose work looks at South African society, with
preference being given to people living within the country. The purpose
of the award is to support the realisation of a signifi cant body of work with
which the photographer has been engaged. For more information please
see www.ernestcoleaward.org.
THE
ERNEST COLE
PHOTOGRAPHY AWARD
Dale Pre&Post-FA.indd 9 2012/08/13 8:37 AM
This edition first published by Jacana
Media (Pty) Ltd in 2012
10 Orange Street
Sunnyside
Auckland Park 2092
South Africa
(+27 11) 628 3200
www.jacana.co.za
© 2012 photographs: Dale Yudelman
© 2012 text: Simone Tredoux
All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-1-4314-0613-5
Also available as an e-book
d-PDF ISBN 978-1-4314-0614-2
Design and layout by mr design
Set in TradeGothic 8.5 pt
Printed by Ultra Litho, Johannesburg
www.daleyudelman.com
Dale Pre&Post-FA.indd 10 2012/08/13 8:39 AM
DALE YUDELMAN
UN
DE
r D
EM
oc
rA
cY
YU
DE
LM
AN
DALE
9 781431 406135
ISBN 978-1-4314-0613-5www.jacana.co.za
IN A DIgItAL worLD rIDDLED wIth UNprEcEDENtED vIsUAL trAffIc,
LIfE UNDEr DEMocrAcY Is A provocAtIvE EssAY of coNtrAst
AND socIAL coMMENtArY ExEcUtED IN YUDELMAN’s INIMItAbLY EDgY
stYLE, IN cohorts wIth NEw-gENErAtIoN tEchNoLogY.
DALE YUDELMAN dumps the baggage
of oversized photographic equipment and
heads unbarred into the bottomless
aufaitness of the life to which we have
grown accustomed.
screaming like motherless newborns,
his images smack the life into what we so
easily perceive as ordinary… Yudelman
delivers a personal, sometimes scathing,
and often humorous account of our unruly
and evolving democracy.
In a digital world riddled with
unprecedented visual traffi c, Life under
Democracy is a provocative essay of
contrast and social commentary executed
in Yudelman’s inimitably edgy style, in
cohorts with new-generation technology.
A salient social documentary,
inoculated against sensationalism,
traditionalism and drudgery. A work that
invests in the power of smaller moments
and features intimate and ‘un-canned’
images of south Africans in their
eighteenth year of freedom. A series that
speaks with resounding clarity on how the
politics of the day fi lters into reality.
Dale Cover-FA.indd 1 2012/08/06 12:37 PM