I was featured in an article in the most recent Dekat magazine. While the reporters interviewed me, I took them up onto the mine dumps and helped them choose vantage points from which to take photographs. They also published a number of my paintings from the mine series.
Here is an excerpt from the article, and you can read the full text after the jump:
“Without the gold mines Johannesburg would not have
been here, and the mine dumps are what’s left of that
era,” says Hermann. “That’s why the mine dumps are so
specifically ‘Johannesburg’: they are handmade and iconic
and they represent the reasons why we’re here.”
For the past 10 years, Hermann has been portraying
Johannesburg’s growth, decline and flow in his paintings
– from lights flashing past on the highway to picture-perfect
panoramas at sunset. His latest exhibition titled Mine is a
documentary of the mine dumps, from Randfontein on the
West Rand to Boksburg on the East Rand. In the middle
is the Top Star drive-in, also portrayed in Hermann’s
paintings, and so we set out to visit this legend out there on
the Johannesburg horizon.
The well-known, sky-high Ster-Kinekor screen still sits on
top of the mine dump next to Simmonds Street South, while
Johannesburg in all its glory buzzes in the background. “To
open a drive-in here was an absolute stroke of genius,”
Hermann tells us, squinting slightly against the bright sunlight.
From the beginning of the article:
The death of a mine dump
Johannesburg has its own set of rules and rhythm that brings the
city to life – one where buildings are torn down and rebuilt, removed
completely or extended. But what does Johannesburg’s history mean
to its people?
It was a traffic jam like those on the highway to hell, with
a tumult of taxis forcing everyone in our car to keep quiet.
What a lovely, lovely mess it was, and surely one of my
favourite memories of Johannesburg.
That Sunday night, while the residents of the northern
suburbs were calmly sipping on their cappuccinos,
Johannesburg’s city centre was a pulsing source of energy.
We were thoroughly stuck: my middle-class suburban car
was boxed in by three taxis, a baby blue Toyota and a brand
new BMW – and for the first time I saw Johannesburg alive.
People with blankets in plastic carrier bags climbed in and
out of the multitude of minibuses. A sponge mattress, a
wooden buffet table and a black bag full of clothes were
carried out of an old Art Deco apartment block. Two
taxi drivers chatted while one of their taxis stood idling
upstream in a one-way street. Like any other global city,
Johannesburg flourishes on its own set of rules and rhythm
that brings the city to life. A rhythm that guarantees the city
will never stop growing.
Half an hour and 20 storeys later, Johannesburg’s urban
façade greeted us as we stood on the roof of the Lister
Building – Sandton’s towers flickered to the north, a little to
the east we could see the newly upgraded Ellis Park and to
the south-west was the endangered Top Star drive-in, at
home on an old mine dump. That unforgettable panorama
tells the story of Johannesburg’s ever-changing landscape:
one where buildings are torn down and rebuilt, removed
completely or extended. A process riddled with politics,
attempts to preserve the city’s heritage and, of course, the
pivot around which society turns: money and development.
But what does Joburg mean to its people, and how does
this 1 644km² city built on gold influence the everyday life
of its residents?
Photographer Minette de Villiers and I meet the artist
Hermann Niebuhr at his Leslie [Lilian] Road Studios in Fordsburg
to take a closer look at the remains of Johannesburg’s
foundations – the mine dumps. The origins of these heaps
of toxic dust go back more than a hundred years. As more
and more holes and tunnels were dug out of the Highveld
earth, so the city started growing. At first, in the early
1880s, tents decorated the horizon, but as the number of
inhabitants increased (about 3 000 people at that point), a
boom kicked off in the wood and iron industry. The original
single-storey structure of the Corner House was built on
the corner of Simmonds and Commissioner Streets in 1886
and the first government building, the post office, saw the
light on Market Square in Rissik Street in 1888. Shops,
banks, offices and Johannesburg’s first stock exchange
followed, and the original Carlton Hotel opened its chic
doors in 1906.
“Without the gold mines Johannesburg would not have
been here, and the mine dumps are what’s left of that
era,” says Hermann. “That’s why the mine dumps are so
specifically ‘Johannesburg’: they are handmade and iconic
and they represent the reasons why we’re here.”
For the past 10 years, Hermann has been portraying
Johannesburg’s growth, decline and flow in his paintings
– from lights flashing past on the highway to picture-perfect
panoramas at sunset. His latest exhibition titled Mine is a
documentary of the mine dumps, from Randfontein on the
West Rand to Boksburg on the East Rand. In the middle
is the Top Star drive-in, also portrayed in Hermann’s
paintings, and so we set out to visit this legend out there on
the Johannesburg horizon.
A raw wound
The well-known, sky-high Ster-Kinekor screen still sits on
top of the mine dump next to Simmonds Street South, while
Johannesburg in all its glory buzzes in the background. “To
open a drive-in here was an absolute stroke of genius,”
Hermann tells us, squinting slightly against the bright sunlight.
Just imagine hundreds of couples, with sandwiches and
flasks of coffee, coming to see the latest releases under a
starry sky. But the picture evaporates instantly at the distant
hum of a bulldozer. Just a few metres from the cafeteria and
the usual jungle gyms, there’s nothing. One big hole and a
raw wound where bulldozers and workers with hard hats
eat into the Top Star mine dump from the back.
On one side is the Provincial Heritage Resources Agency
of Gauteng (PHRAG). They are trying to protect the mine
dump – which is more than a hundred years old – because
of its iconic status and historical relevance to Johannesburg.
On the other side is Crown Gold Recoveries, an affiliate of
DRDGOLD. They, in turn, are re-mining the dump, which
contains an estimated 128 000oz of gold at an approximate
grade of 0,775g/t. The mine dump, after all, posed a threat
to the environment, and the movie projector stopped
rolling ages ago. And then, of course, there’s the world of
possibilities this patch of land offers to developers.
It is this sudden change in the landscape that affects
Hermann profoundly, and he addresses it in his works.
“The mine dumps form part of our psyche as citizens of
Johannesburg; they are our pyramids! I consider it a
personal loss that the Top Star no longer exists.”
But how will the change affect Johannesburg’s people?
“I think the city’s mine dumps have a big influence and
also no influence at all on the city and its people,” says Hugh
Fraser, general manager of architectural design services at
the PG Group.
“I don’t think people take much notice of them [the mine
dumps]. They’re on the south side of the city centre and not
many people from the north travel in that direction, so it’s
mostly the people from the south and Soweto that see them.
The mine dumps are like ‘an elephant in the bathroom’:
they’re so big, you can’t miss them, and yet people don’t
see them. People don’t realise how beautiful they actually
are, but you need to walk on them to really see this.”
Unfortunately the Top Star’s unique design, influenced by
the Brazilian architecture of the 1950s, will disappear along
with the toxic mine dust. But surely a city has to grow? So,
what do you preserve and what do you knock down? The
preservation of Johannesburg’s heritage has become a
sore point.
The great big heritage fight
Section 28.1 of the National Heritage Resources Act
specifically refers to the protection of mine dumps,
but five of them are currently being re-mined. And
despite protest and the fact that the Rand Steam
Laundries in Napier Street, Richmond was declared
a temporary provincial heritage site, Johannesburg’s
first steam laundry – which dated from 1895 – was
razed to the ground by the Imperial Group (Pty) Ltd
in January 2008. “In the case of the Laundries,
for example, there was brief dismay, then
everything continued as before. That
is the nature of our city. Just like
a leaf that floats downstream
without ever touching a rock,
so is our history. Our identity
simply flows away,” reckons
Hugh. When a heritage
site is torn down over a
weekend or in the middle
of the night, it deprives the
residents of their right to
claim ownership of their
city, and according to
Hermann, this makes
us feel less part of the
place where we live.
So what now?
“There is a need for the protection of our heritage and
heritage areas, and development must be balanced,” says
Mphethi Morojele of MMA Architects in Johannesburg. “Due
to our history, the city’s heritage means different things to
different people. I suspect most black people will have
conflicting emotions about the preservation of this history.”
The Constitutional Court in Braamfontein is an excellent
example of the preservation of Johannesburg’s heritage,
and at the same time it contributes to the much-needed
development of the city. Constitution Hill is built on the
terrain where the Old Fort prison used to be. The history
of the Old Fort lies in the days of the Republic, when Paul
Kruger built a massive fort around an existing part of the
structure to protect the mines, town and mine railways.
After the Anglo-Boer War, the prison grew piece by piece
as a “native” jail was added for black men, then one
for women and finally a cell for prisoners
awaiting trial. Great freedom fighters like
Mahatma Gandhi and
Nelson Mandela
were incarcerated
in these small
cells, and
after the prison was closed down in 1983, a gaping wound
remained uncomfortably in the centre of Johannesburg.
More than 20 years later, the Old Fort got a new lease on life
with the help of Andrew Makin, Janina Masojada and Erik
Orts Hansen of OMM Design Workshop (Durban) and Paul
Wygers of Urban Solutions Architects and Urban Designers
(Johannesburg). In March 2004, Constitution Hill’s doors
opened to the public as a space that is accessible to the
community without having the intimidating presence of a
typical court.
The walls of the court boast a collection of artworks from
South Africa’s top artists that tell the story of our country’s
history, including William Kentridge’s Sleeper and Judith
Mason’s The Blue Dress 3. The tower of light above the
court’s foyer is now a proud part of Johannesburg’s
landscape and two glass towers were also recently
erected above the original stairwell.
A beacon of light and a space accessible to the
surrounding communities sound good in theory, but is this
space in fact used and visited by the community? Hugh
says he likes to entertain the romantic notion that people
do visit the space and look at the art, but the reality is that
Constitution Hill is mainly a thoroughfare from Hillbrow
to Braamfontein. Those who visit it for the art or for its
cultural and historic significance are mostly tourists and
the occasional local visitor. “Sorry, but I’m quite cynical and
our population is generally conservative and uninspired,”
he says.
As citizens of Johannesburg we have an important
responsibility towards the city. Things happen, buildings
are developed and demolished, and it’s our duty to enjoy,
explore and support the city.
“Our responsibility is also towards the environment:
reducing our physical and carbon footprint, conserving
our natural environment and reusing existing buildings,”
Mphethi urges. MMA Architects is currently involved in the
Ellis Park Urban Development Framework, which forms
part of the Inner City Revitalisation of Johannesburg.
“Ellis Park is situated in a fairly dilapidated part of the
city and next to some of the most densely populated
areas in the city centre. The work that was done in the
greater Ellis Park district was part of an urban framework
that benefited from FIFA’s requirements for sports events
to provide a lasting heritage for this part of the city.” FIFA’s
requirements included safety and security, commercial
display spaces and, most importantly, the improvement of
the city’s aesthetic.
“These requirements formed the basis of the developments
in Ellis Park – the upgrading of the streets, the
integration of BRT routes and stations, the upgrading of
public spaces and the development of community parks
and sports fields.”
Johannesburg today
The city centre is also home to some of South Africa’s
biggest players, like Absa, Standard Bank, Transnet and
Anglo Ashanti, all of which have their head offices here.
The city generates about 16 percent of South Africa’s
GDP. According to Mphethi, the city has also started
implementing resources in the management of public
spaces, sometimes in cooperation with the private sector,
for example in the improvement of business districts. “But
it all depends on our vision for the city – who owns what
and who should.
"There are perceptions – and realities – of the city centre
that make people wary. The general perception does not
categorise which parts of the city are susceptible to which
types of crime.” Like Mphethi, I hope that our spaces
will change these perceptions during the 2010 Soccer
World Cup, and that we will be able to see our cities (and
ourselves) through the eyes of the world.
Look at the city!
Hugh Fraser, Mphethi Morojele and Hermann Niebuhr
have an inextinguishable passion for Johannesburg.
“I experience diverse emotions when I drive through
and around the city,” says Hugh. “At times it’s despair, and
sometimes genuine pride.
“As you drive on the M1 over Saxonwold, there’s the
smugness of the northern suburbs: beautiful, but remote.
You have a good view of the trees. The name Saxonwold
comes from the German word Sachsenwald, which means
‘the forests of Sachsen’ (or Saxony). It’s fantastic to move
over the forest at a high speed.”
Look at the city, see how it grows. We dare you to
experience Africa’s New York first-hand.
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