Dynamic Africa
Formerly, "This is Africa/fyeahAfrica".
(Profile Photo by Mama Casset)
DISCLAIMER:
I do not endorse any of the products or opinions shared on this site, nor do I claim any of the work posted here to be my own - except where stated. All posts originally made by me are credited. If no credit is given then the work is either my own/written by me or reblogged from another source.
A LITTLE ABOUT ME:
Student, 24
Based in Cape Town, South Africa
From Lagos, Nigeria
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(As an unemployed media student, all donations go into ensuring my survival in this cruel world and future projects I hope to embark on).
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(since Oct. 21th 2012)
Vintage colonial postcard of a woman from Djibouti.
Vintage photographs of Kunama people, a Nilotic ethnic group who live mostly in Eritrea and Ethiopia where they are a minority in both.
Fashions of Nigerian women in 1971 by Donanne Hunter.
Madagascar:
Beautiful Magadascan women: c. 1898
(the beauty and power of these women made me cry)
Felt the same way as I was scrolling through these photographs of these incredibly beautiful women. Their elaborate hairstyles and equally as immaculate clothing just blows me away.
(via barelymature)
Women’s Hair Dressing in Zanzibar, Tanzania.
Late 19th century.
NOTABLE AFRICANS: Portrait of King Khama III, South Africa, early twentieth century.
Kgosi Khama III became chief of the Ngwato in 1875.
He visited Britain in 1895 on a self-funded journey with other chiefs, and successfully protested against the possible transfer of the administration of the Bechuanaland Protectorate to the British South Africa Company.
A cropped version of this portrait was printed in a leaflet, “Khama: The Great African Chief,” distributed by the London Missionary Society in 1923. Smart & Copley, Bulawato, also published the image as a postcard.
Read more about King Khama III.
NOTABLE AFRICANS: William Moore (attr.), inscribed: “Macomo and his chief wife,” South Africa, c. 1869.
Along with several other Xhosa leaders and their wives, Maqoma was imprisoned on Robben Island for leading insurgencies during the Frontier Wars of the eighteen-fifties.
This widely circulated portrait was taken after their release.
Even when they were photographed on Robben Island, Maqoma and his wife never sat for the camera without dress coats, hats, and shawls.
Taken at the Scholtz Studio, in South Africa.
Maria was born to a family of inboekselings, which, loosely translated, means those forced into juvenile apprenticeships in agriculture. Her family became prosperous livestock and grain farmers at the turn of the century.
Santu Mofokeng, from “The Black Photo Album / Look at Me: 1890-1950,” 1997.
(Photographer: Scholtz Studio, Lindley. Ouma Maria Letsipa, née van der Merwe, with her daughter Minkie. Orange River Colony, South Africa, c. 1900. Albumen Print.)
David Goldblatt, Pondo mine workers in their hostel.
Carletonville, South Africa, 1970.
“Permission had been given me by the head office to take photographs in the hostel. Without consulting me, the hostel manager sent out an instruction that men of each tribal group were to present themselves to me in tribal dress. I had no desire to do ethnographic ‘studies,’ and was preparing to withdraw. But then I saw the men, and they took the occasion very seriously, and with great dignity. And so I photographed several groups.”—David Goldblatt.
A. M. Duggan-Cronin, “Bomvana Initiates,” South Africa, c. 1930.
From what I understand, ‘Bomvana’ is a Xhosa clan name.
Xhosa clan names are family names which are considered more important than surnames among Xhosa people.
Each Xhosa person can trace their family history back to a specific male ancestor or stock. Mentioning the clan name of someone you wish to thank is the highest form of respect, and it is considered polite to enquire after someone’s clan name when you meet them. The clan name is also sometimes used as an exclamation by members of that clan.
When a woman marries she may take her husband’s surname, but she always keeps her own clan name, adding the prefix Ma- to it. A man and a woman who have the same clan name may not marry, as they are considered to be related.
A. M. Duggan-Cronin, “The Late Chief Jonathan Molapo”, Chief of the Leribe District, Basutoland.
South Africa, 1933.
Photogravure.
Moorish women
Earlier this year Vladimir Tretchikoff’s portrait Chinese Girl, often referred to as The Green Lady, was sold for almost £1m ($1.5m) at auction in London - a reflection of its status as one of the most popular prints ever made. The model, Monika Pon-su-san, recalls what it was like to be thrust into the limelight.
One day in 1950, a curly-haired stranger walked into my uncle’s laundry in Cape Town, where I worked.
He stood there as I served a customer, his eyes fixed on me the whole time. He only spoke when we were alone together in the shop.
“Hello!” he said. “I’m Tretchikoff. I’d love to paint you.”
At that time Vladimir Tretchikoff wasn’t very famous but by chance I had read about him in a newspaper just the Saturday before.
So I was a bit nervous, but I said yes. He picked me up after work and took me back home.
I was given his wife’s gown to put on. It was silk chiffon - beautiful, beautiful stuff. It wasn’t yellow like in the painting - that was his own invention.
A lot of people ask me: “What is that stern look you had on your face? What were you thinking about?” And I always say: “Well you know, one gets tired sitting and just looking.”
All the time I was thinking about Tretchikoff’s life. Because he had had a miserable life - during the war he’d been on a boat for three weeks without food, after his ship was bombed. Then he was imprisoned by the Japanese.
He had lost contact with his wife and daughter. Thinking they were dead he took a lover, but they weren’t dead, and as fate would have it they went to Cape Town, which is where he ended up too. So they got back together again.
I liked him very much. He was a funny man - we always laughed a lot. In all, I was paid six pounds and five shillings for the work.
He had a class of about 20 pupils. All the time I was sitting for him they could see me but I was never allowed to see the painting - it always had its back to me.
I would nag him: “What are you going to call it?” He said that a name would come to him later on. It was only at the end of the six or 10 weeks - I can’t remember exactly how long it took - on the night his exhibition opened that he said it was called Chinese Girl. I thought that was very ordinary.
And when I saw the painting I was so shocked. I thought I looked like a monster from a horror film. I pulled an ugly face and said: “Ugh - green face!”
Right away people started to recognise me. I remember going to a supermarket and a woman shouted: “Look at this girl! She looks just like the painting!”
I decided I had to buy a print. By the time I went to him Tretchikoff had run out, so he gave me one he had used in London when he was on tour. I’ve got it in my lounge.
There was a block of flats in Cape Town, filled with artists. The man on the ground floor was a sculptor and one day he asked Tretchikoff: “Can I borrow your model?” He wanted to cast a bronze of my face. But Tretchikoff said: “Certainly not!”
I had so many modelling offers but - stupid me - I went and got married and had children, so that was that. I didn’t socialise much, with five children to look after, so I was hidden away from Cape Town’s artists. The offers stopped coming.
I was so disappointed to miss the auction recently. My daughters said to me: “The painting’s sold! The painting’s sold!” And when I found out it had gone for £1m, I jumped up and down, up and down!
Everybody’s fascinated by that painting. I don’t know what it is about it really.
One of my daughters - the second youngest, who is supposed to look like me - said: “I wish I had a lot of money and then I would buy that painting and keep it forever in my own house.”
When I was asked by a journalist if I would let another artist paint me at this moment in time, I said: “No… but if Tretchikoff were alive, I would let him paint me again.”
(source)
Nigerian Fulani woman, 1970s.
“Fela’s beautie’s doing it their own way in the swimming pool”
“Sunday Tide,” September 19, 1976
