Down to the wire: 'iNgqikithi yokuPhica (Weaving Meanings)' showcases a South African art tradition spanning nearly 100 years

“Weaving Meanings” spins stories of fighting clubs, apartheid and the dazzling artworks wire weavers create today.

Open at Santa Fe’s Museum of International Folk Art, this exhibition of a South African tradition spans nearly 100 years. The exhibit looks at the history of the art form, from its use as a marker of social status in the 16th century to the introduction of telephone wire as a recycled material to the dizzying complexity created for markets today. Several of the artists have shown their work at the International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe.

The full title, “iNgqikithi yokuPhica (Weaving Meanings),” is a poetic expression. iNgqikithi means an essence or deep foundation. Ukuphica usually refers to a weaving technique, but also may refer to a riddle.

Down to the wire: 'iNgqikithi yokuPhica (Weaving Meanings)' showcases a South African art tradition spanning nearly 100 years

Much of the collection is Zulu.

“It’s bringing together radial symmetry with the beadwork and a wire working tradition,” said guest curator Elizabeth Perrill, one of the foremost experts on Zulu ceramics.

From beer pot lids (izimbenge) to platters and plates, from vessels to sculptural assemblages, the works speak to the continued development and significance of this artistic tradition.

“I’ve been in many houses where a wire beer pot lid was a prized possession,” Perrill said.

Historically, it began with 16th century archaeology, she said. Teams from the University of California, Los Angeles found rods and wire in archaeological sites that had been trading goods sites.

During the colonial era from the 1700s through the 1800s, first the Portuguese and then the British brought more wire, primarily brass and copper.

“There started to be this line of decorated sparring sticks,” Perrill said. “Basically, it’s a martial art.”

By the mid-20th century, telephone wire arrived. Artists began salvaging it, incorporating it into their work. They began decorating objects for sale.

Sales took off in the ’80s and ’90s, when there were more shops to support the artists.

“That’s when they started using the basket itself instead of putting beads on a fiber basket,” Perrill added.

With the collapse of apartheid, the new South African flag began surfacing in the baskets. One artist created a woven bust of Nelson Mandela, the anti-apartheid activist and the country’s first Black head of state.

“They were using an expanded version of the beer pot lid,” Perrill said, “then came bowls and plates. It became a way to decorate the wall and table.”

Bheki Sibiya created richly colorful oval platters from telephone wire and steel using a hard-wire technique.

Elliot Mkhize was another pioneer of the use of telephone wire and steel.

“He was someone who went to one of the only colleges in South Africa during apartheid that still trained Black artists,” Perrill said. “He was a college-level trained artist who came to Durban to become a night watchman at a theater.

“He was able to be a part of the art world because he knew everybody. He knew how to do fiber baskets. He took his knowledge of fiber baskets and applied it to telephone wire in the 1970s.”

By the 2000s, Vincent Sithole created a basket studded with South African birds.

The first major exhibition of telephone wire art in any North American museum, “Weaving Meanings,” features a significant collection assembled and donated by David Arment and Jim Rimelspach, the David Arment Southern African Collection.