Willem Boshoff
Standard Bank Gallery, Johannesburg, South Africa
The sage-like reverence accorded South African artist Willem Boshoff brings to mind Sol LeWitt. ‘Conceptual artists are mystics rather than rationalists,’ reads the opening line to LeWitt’s ‘Sentences on Conceptual Art’. With his unruly beard and unkempt hair, Boshoff certainly resembles the cliché of the wizened mystic. But LeWitt’s 1969 manifesto was not about personal style; his accent was on ideas, the freewheeling, form-defying potential of ideas.
The first major career overview of Boshoff’s production, ‘Word Forms and Language Shapes’, charts the artist’s form-defying output, which, since 1975, has encompassed wood, paint, sand, stone, cement, plastic, paper and – crucially – words. Aside from his early forays into concrete poetry and repeated use of words and letters in his work, Boshoff has also compiled numerous dictionaries, ranging from his Dictionary of –ologies and –isms to a wilful compendium titled Places Mother Might Not Approve Of.
The only dictionary on show at Standard Bank Gallery is Skynbord (1977-80). Ostensibly a random sampling of colour, the work collects 5184 promotional colour samples, which the artist grouped together onto 324 cards and displayed on a formalist grid, 27 rows across, 12 rows down. In a catalogue published to coincide with the exhibition, Boshoff, who was a lay preacher at one time, speaks of Skynbord in religious terms, highlighting the elemental polarities between light and darkness.
Before the word however there was wood. The son of a carpenter, Boshoff’s early wood sculptures are centrally located by curator Warren Siebrits in his chronological survey. Grouped in the gallery’s central rotunda, these works include Tafelboek (1975-9), a table made of discarded wood offcuts that when unfolded (like a book) reveals a splintered, interlocking matrix inside, and Boshoff’s magnum opus, 370 Day Project (1982-1983).
This work is easily summarised: monomania. The project consists of five vertical, slotted wooden cabinets, each cabinet housing 74 wood blocks, each representing a different species of tree. Started on September 12, 1982, the artist’s birthday, and carved at a rate of one block per day, the work is a mute diary of cryptic signs; everything is visible yet entirely incomprehensible. In a 1983 interview Boshoff stated: ‘The whole idea of the work was to design an activity that involves risk – you risk your family, your life, your health.’
The exhibition concludes without risk or enigma. Collecting recent examples of Boshoff’s work, much of it produced for two very mediocre commercial shows, viewers are presented with British and American flags, each made from an assemblage of plastic toys. Nearby, bland Newsweek statistics tabulate nuclear arsenals and oil reserves. Gone is the mystery and impenetrability; all we are left to ponder is visible anger and literal truths.
Sean O’Toole
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