The Zimbabwean artist draws power from women’s resilience, and their magic

As told to Skye Sherwin

How I became an artist: Kresiah Mukwazhi 

‘My grandmother was my first encounter with an artist. She was a potter. She didn’t use machinery, her approach was very raw – just hands, water, and clay. We didn’t speak very much. Rather, we shared quiet moments of me watching and her making. It was more than making: it was meditating, thinking, praying, and healing. Now I employ these elements in my own processes of creating.

‘My first love was painting. It’s what I majored in at the National Gallery School of Visual Arts and Design in Harare, Zimbabwe. After completing my studies, I decided to pursue my interest in photography and went to the Market Photo Workshop in Johannesburg in South Africa. The high crime rate in the city meant I felt unsafe visiting new places so I turned the camera on myself. In Hesi Keresiya (Hello Kresiah) [2014], through impersonation, self-portraits, and performance, I inquire about the self and give an ode to my grandmother, whom I am named after.‘I didn’t enjoy painting on canvas as a student. I was interested in alternative media and after I graduated, I started making sculptures out of bras and underwear from thrift stores, and exploring these as objects of resistance for women. During a residency program at Village Unhu in Harare, I became interested in the petticoat and had an “aha” moment realizing “I could actually paint on this.” My very first painting on a petticoat, getting dressed [2017], was chosen for the Annual Exhibition at the National Gallery of Zimbabwe. The development of my practice has since been an organic process, exploring the dimensions of various fabrics that speak of femininity, marine spirits, and womanhood.

‘My experiences working as a chef in a nightclub have also had a lasting impression on my practice. I was starting out as an artist and needed to sustain myself. I was in the nightclub by day and the studio by night, or vice versa, and my life existed between those two spaces for about a year. I realized I just needed to tell the story of what I was experiencing. My work piqued the interest of&nbsp;<a href="https://www.artbasel.com/catalog/gallery/3107/SMAC-Art-Gallery" target="_blank">SMAC Gallery</a> in Cape Town where I had my first solo exhibition, “Bedroom Interview”, in 2018. The title refers to the process some of the women working at the nightclub had to go through, in which they either had to have an affair or were expected to give sexual favors to someone working higher up in the club. The ambience of the place, how the women dressed, danced, and drank, is what I channeled through the exhibition.

‘My works around the experiences of sex workers in Harare began in 2015,&nbsp;when I was asked to photograph an empowerment workshop in which the participants shared experiences and discussed how to protect and empower each other. One thing led to another, and I found myself documenting their lives. They welcomed me into their homes and shared their intimate stories with me. I wanted to represent them in the most sensitive way, which they fully directed. They are often marginalized, but through my work I aim to show a kind of prestige. In the piece Kudyiswa uchishamirira&nbsp;[2020] which was included in my first European solo exhibition “Mukando”, at&nbsp;<a href="https://www.artbasel.com/catalog/gallery/7411/Jan-Kaps">Jan Kaps&nbsp;</a>gallery in Cologne in 2020, women are depicted with lace, animal prints, and glittering fabrics and they have fierce, talon-like fake nails.The language of sex is a controversial form of empowerment and a way to push boundaries and provoke reaction. One needs to be raw at times to express the crudity of the violation of women’s bodies. My titles like Send me your nudes or Kusexirato seduce [both 2018] may be read as erotic or crude, but by using these words casually, it disempowers the demeaning tone they have. It’s like a form of mockery.

‘Female genitalia are a powerful source of magic used in rituals in African culture. Fluids, pubic hair, or merely spreading one’s legs over something, can be used to cast a spell or raise the spirit of the dead. The act of an elderly woman stripping her clothes in protest or anger is believed to bring bad omens for people. I imagine the women I paint possessing these supernatural qualities. To associate my work and the female nude solely with sex is a narrow perspective and a reflection of how hypersexualized our society has become. My view is that the bodies of sex workers go through a traumatizing kind of labor. My work represents the softness needed in caring for these women’s bodies.

‘For most of last year I worked between Harare and Cape Town. I heard the stories of migrant Zimbabwean women working under extreme conditions in South Africa as housemaids, sex workers, street vendors, and vineyard workers. My exhibition “Zviratidzo” at blank gallery in Cape Town in 2021, involved responses to these problems. My textile work Murungu anoisa katsvimbo mandiri for instance, exposes the power dynamics and dark magic used to physically exploit a young Zimbabwean woman working as a housemaid in Cape Town.

‘Taking part in the Live Art workshop at the University of Cape Town in 2019, under the direction of Jay Pather, had an immensely positive influence on my performance work. In the work Zvisaririra [2019], which means traces or remains, I burnt my hair and performed in stillness, with a video of birthday celebrations for my now late mother. Here I was interested in the body as a medium for memory. The scent of burnt hair remains sometimes for days on end, even when the body itself is no longer present. It’s about erasure and lineage.‘While my textiles speak to collective experiences and marginalized women’s stories, my performance practice at times involves a more personal dialogue, dealing with identity, ancestral history, and mediumship. Working across different subjects and mediums is how I find my balance and voice.’

Skye Sherwin is an art writer based in Rochester, UK. She contributes regularly to The Guardian and numerous art publications.Kresiah Mukwazhi’s work will be on view in the Art Basel Statements sector. She is represented by <a href="https://artbasel.com/catalog/gallery/7411/Jan-Kaps">Jan Kaps</a>, Cologne.All full-bleed images and videos&nbsp;by Neven Allgeier for Art Basel.

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