I saw Notes towards a Model Opera in October 2015 at Marian Goodman’s Gallery in London and it was my first encounter with William Kentridge’s oeuvre, but it wasn’t until recently that I realized how meaningful his practice is to me due to its politicised outlet and in particular his knowledge of Colonialism.

 

The rumble of voices and stomping, the charming half-melancholic half-lively music immediately lured me into a small room where three screens were displayed. On these, feelings and facts made sense only on an abstract sphere, but yet, with no discernable narrative they told poignant stories. These stories were of horror, but told with beauty.

 

The layers of time so typical of his work were shown via an amalgamation of historical revolutionary happenings, slogans, maps, the use of printed book as background to the sparrow’s flight, predominant colors associated with revolution all demonstrated a hefty reflection, content charged.

 

‘Our understanding of history – imperfect, idiosyncratic, is always shaped by our biography’ Kentridge says. Although at this point in time I knew nothing about him, I could visualize that he had personally experienced aspects of what was depicted there. There was an intrinsic knowledge that couldn’t be gained through research, something of experience I could perceive.

 

Kentridge’s research is mostly done in the practice of his studio, through his human self, what one could call experimentation. The studio is where he ponders and perceives what goes on on the outside. His technique permits drifting: he wipes traces of unwanted or re-definable particles of his studies to be able to achieve the desired effect: one of mastery.