tankwa.

The stones at Tankwa are remarkable. Their dark coloration covers the landscape, creating an otherworldly feeling, as if you’re not on Earth, but in a realm shaped by ancient volcanoes, metals, and waterways. The harsh beauty of this land, combined with the vast sky, felt unsettling. I felt exposed, and the quiet stillness was almost haunting. This sensation makes sense when reflecting on the landscape’s history; it has witnessed violence. Once a nomadic land, it was a place where people engaged deeply with the environment, but conflict over domestication has left it barren.

I imagined a language of stones that tells stories of violence, intimacy, engagement, and the passage of time. With assistance, I constructed a temporary scaffolding in the landscape to observe the interaction between two stones as I set them in motion. I recorded these interactions for later use.

I aimed to delve into the nuanced ways in which two bodies interact with each other and the land. I considered not only human history within the landscape but also geological time, along with the cycles of creation and destruction present in nature and the universe. Engaging with themes of interaction, conflict, and history, I collaborated with Jane Mpholo on a performance piece. Sara CF de Gouveia and Inka Kendzia documented the performance, and this footage will be combined with recordings of the rocks suspended from the scaffolding to create a video work to be realized after the residency.

To conclude the residency, I invited other artists to interact with the stones. New stones were added, tied together in beautiful patterns, swirling in the wind. I wanted to explore feelings of frustration as we seek resolutions to conflicts that often seem unattainable, but I also aimed to envision a renewed relationship with the world founded on curiosity, play, joy, and care.

Images courtesy of Bronwen Trupp and Mona de Villiers.

Thirsty Stones

The land is dry, arid,
expansive and unending.
The heat: unrelenting.

Eternal skies loom ominous,
rendering me insignificant, irrelevant,
anonymous.

I am exposed.

Yet, to tiny creatures crawling and cowering,
I am power unchecked, unregulated,
unopposed.

If only there were no thirsty stones
threatening to suck and swallow
until I am hollow.

When all I am is bone,
this land will remember,
all I marked, made, and maimed.

It will digest and preserve
through salt and wind,
heat and fury.

I will no longer be alone,
exposed.

I will be the thirsty stones,
shading crawling creatures,
digesting,
unopposed.

– by Chrisél Attewell