doyenne
2016
Two women 8,302 miles apart from each other, one British and one South African. My Gogo and my Grandmother. Some of my earliest memories are in my British grandmother’s picturesque garden in Kent, but the smell of fried fish on a hot day reminds me of kasi.
When I see the colour cream it reminds me of staying in grandma’s spare room but burnt orange and dust takes me to my gogo’s garden. These women have never spoken about the trauma in their lives, abusive
relationships, the death of their sons, displacement, abject poverty.
In this work I try for the first time, to really know who they are. By searching their home’s I attempt to find the truths, which have been entombed.
The only time these women have ever met was in the millennium of 200 when my Gogo came to England. They will never meet again but always send their love and well wishes to each other – via me.
